Hallowed Grounds
by Katjae
Summary: Male Byleth x Dimitri Ch18 Start. Dimitri is finding atonement for the last five years by working toward his goal of saving his country. In his first day of trying to fix his past, he stumbles on clues to the professor's past and finds trouble along with it; truths that pertain to the professor, Rhea, and the monastery.
1. The Swing of Things

Authors Notes:

I am giving this an 'M' rating due to the nature of these collections of chapters. It will deal with death – chapter 4 is especially brutal – and sexual themes between Dimitri and Byleth, though still not right away.

There will also be 'spookier' themes in spirit of Halloween, but I write slowly so those chapters may not be posted until later November.

This story takes place after chapter 17 right at the start of chapter 18 in part 2, where Dimitri has regained his sense of self.

05/03/1186

The Swing of Things

Dimitri stared at the ceiling in a futile attempt to sleep. He focused on his interactions with the professor to pass the time – how gently he spoke and eventually cradled Dimitri in his embrace. He imagined what the sight was to an outsider: a towering man in the arms of another, smaller one at night in the pouring, relentless rain. Dimitri broke down in that moment and sobbed.

How long did the professor hold him like that? Embarrassed as he was, Dimitri could not help but relish the attention and distinctly remembered the professor's hand petting his head. But those warm thoughts were driven away by the remembrance of all the other interactions they had before that point. The things he said and threatened to do to the professor was nothing short of shameful. All the ones Dimitri remembered, anyway. So much of that time was a blur now.

He tried not to think about it, but those memories displayed in his mind. Instead of resting on a positive note, he saw battlefields and corpses. He recognized some of the faces on the dead and desperately tried to steer his mind elsewhere, but that was a failure. He couldn't help but see friends and family, but also enemies.

Killing and death clung to his senses – he could smell the rotting and taste the aftermath, as surely as he stood in the field he dreamed of. It was the same nightmare he always had, or a variation therein – and he identified it as nothing more than a vivid dream. Still, he was helpless to the visuals before him that refused to change.

Right on cue, the dead started speaking to him, making demands using the disfigured bodies as vessels.

"Avenge us," he heard them wail in otherworldly voices.

"Kill her," They chanted over and over.

At this point, Dimitri normally would negotiate with them to appeal to his family. He did not this time, seeing this unfold in a different light. Part of him grew tired of their appearance in this way and wondered if the voices of the living – or perhaps, the voices of reason – held more weight than these phantoms.

Their voices grew louder and angrier. They demanded Edelgard's life, and her head as a prize. Dimitri just wanted to rest. The spirits did not rile his thirst for vengeance, and for that Dimitri was grateful. Dimitri felt uneased by the growing collective malice in response to being ignored.

He sought to give them what they wanted – but after considering what Rodrigue and the professor said, he questioned everything about this.

Dimitri walked past the corpses; surprisingly, they faded into obscurity and the world around him vanished. Somehow, he managed to transition out of the nightmare and into blanketed darkness.

#

Rodrigue was buried in the cemetery here, and Dimitri went to visit. The professor stood in front of his father's grave and Dimitri watched for him to finish, while paying his own respects.

After some time passed, Dimitri approached him for reassurance, "Professor."

He turned toward Dimitri, but possessed a blank expression, one comparable to when they first met. His eyes held that sharp edge and his mouth, while not frowning, had deep corners curved in a way that presented immense displeasure.

"I was hoping to talk to you," Dimitri continued. This brought back some feelings of inadequacy.

"If you must," He answered, crossing his arms.

"U-um," Dimitri touched his forehead.

"Are you going to ask your question? Are you so worthless that you can't even speak?"

"Worthless? Is that how you see me?" Dimitri asked, baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? You're nothing but a worthless, mindless, pathetic beast."

Dimitri did not answer. That vileness perfectly mirrored his inner thoughts, "Professor. Why did it have to be your face telling me this? Am I not allowed some peace?"

"You don't deserve peace."

Dimitri could not bring himself to respond. The professor frowned deeply, appearing disgusted, "Five years was not enough. I can't wait to be rid of you again."

Dimitri tightly clenched his eye shut, blocking out the specter in front of him. It was just another illusion or a dream. It couldn't be real, and Dimitri argued, "If you really mean that, have the courage to say it when I'm awake."

"If I do, will you strike me down?"

"No, I would never –" but he had threatened it many times before. And meant it. The professor, or this nightmarish version of the professor, laughed in a dark, mocking manner. He stepped forward, drawing his sword.

"What are you waiting for?" The professor asked, the sword halfway exposed.

"You aren't real," Dimitri said.

"Do you know that for certain?"

"I'm not arguing with you," He said firmly.

The professor lunged at Dimitri, sword completely drawn. Reflexes kicked in and Dimitri defended himself, only to realize what he had done. Dream or no, he now had a lance through the professor's chest; although he did not know where the lance came from. The professor dropped his sword. He laughed again, "I knew you would."

Dimitri let out a desperate cry and released his grip on lance. The professor stumbled backwards and tripped on a grave marker. He caught himself on a headstone, enough to slide down to a knee, his elbow rested on the curvature of the headstone while his free hand gripped the lance. The length of the it extended from his torso, while the blade edge scrapped audibly against the stone.

"N-no! Stop it!" Dimitri whimpered. So many emotions swelled, and Dimitri's head started to pound.

"You will be the death of me."

Dimitri felt a jolt in his chest. He awoke drenched in sweat and with a massive migraine. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest and he quickly swung himself out of bed in a fit of adrenaline.

He walked out of his room and marched down the hall to the stairs and outside. Morning dew settled in, but the sun had not fully risen just yet. Most everyone still slept, and Dimitri only encountered the night watch along the way. He hurried to the cemetery, where the last dream took place.

He must have had a look in his eye, because the guards sheepishly greeted him or barely acknowledged him. He didn't care – all that mattered was confirming the dream was only just that.

He passed the stables and climbed several stairs, eventually making it to where he needed to be.

He hurried down the last stretch and saw the normal headstones, a few birds, and a lazy cat in the shade. No bodies. No one else, really.

The shock subsided and Dimitri took a deep breath. He hated how involved his dreams were.

"Your Highness," An older man's voice called to him, one that Dimitri recognized instantly.

"Gilbert," He said.

"I saw you making your way here. Is there anything you want to talk about?" The older man offered.

"I – just a bad dream," Dimitri answered.

"I see. Yes. I'm sure they will plague you for some time to come. Believe me, I know."

Dimitri did not answer. It had been a day since he formally apologized to his friends, but things were far from normal. That nightmare completely caught Dimitri off guard because the professor never made an appearance before – never pleading for vengeance or berating him for perceived failures. Why the sudden change?

"Gilbert," Dimitri said, "Do you know where the professor is?"

"Hm?" The older man said, "Probably asleep. The professor is many things. An early riser is not one of them."

"You're right. I don't think I've ever seen him willingly wake up before lunch," Dimitri recalled the academy days.

"Heh. He's not quite that bad," Gilbert exposed a slight smile, "I imagine you could wake him if you really needed to talk to him."

"No! Heavens, no," Dimitri shook his head, "I wouldn't want to rob him of sleep."

"Perhaps. I wouldn't consider it an option for most people, but I believe you are an exception. In truth, you going directly to him might put his own mind to ease."

"I have to respectfully disagree. Waking him up to deal with my problems is self-indulgent and rude."

Gilbert responded, "Sometimes it is necessary for a trusted confidant to sacrifice sleep. I am sure he would understand. Just as many of your father's trusted advisors did before you."

"You think he's like father's advisors?" Dimitri asked in earnest, looking at the fresh burial plot.

"I do. Everything he's done suggests as much. Mostly," An air of suspicion clung to the last word. Still, Dimitri considered what Gilbert said. Nothing would make him happier to have the professor a permanent ally for when he ascended the throne. Though, he did have to ask the one question that plagued him since they met, "Do you know his name?"

Gilbert sighed, "No. No one knows his name."

Dimitri frowned, "Why hasn't he shared that information with anyone?"

Gilbert pondered a moment before revealing, "If anyone knew his identity, it would be Seteth."

"Seteth? I wonder why . . ."

"Seteth is as suspicious as they come and it's possible he uncovered something. It is the one of two reasons I would have any suspicion of the professor. Hiding a name is – well," Gilbert cleared his throat, "normally, there's history behind that decision."

"Two reasons? What's the other?"

"His whereabouts for the last five years."

'Five years was not enough'. Subconsciously, it must have bothered Dimitri too.

"So, how would Seteth have information? Could he also fill in the details of the professor's absence?"

"No one had seen him for the last five years – Seteth claims the same," Gilbert clarified, "I know for a fact he was the only one who vocalized any complaint about the professor's teaching role and acted on his concerns. Which involved a hefty background check."

"I think I might have known about that, to an extent. I remember Seteth disapproving, at the very least."

"Seteth did seem to drop the subject altogether. Which, he is not one to do so unless he had compelling reason to," Gilbert explained.

"Why the secrecy?" Dimitri's frown deepened.

Gilbert chuckled, "Jeralt was the same way. Maybe the professor inherited his father's need for discretion."

". . . Let us find a different topic. I don't like casting this much doubt on the professor, or Seteth."

"Understood," Gilbert nodded, "You might find that you have to pry that information out, though. Shall we pay the professor a morning visit?"

"Not under the premise of 'prying anything from him'," Dimitri protested, '"And, I would rather wait to clear it with him before I wake him up this early, so I know that it is an option in the future. Anything I have to say to him can wait."

"If you insist," Gilbert said, "How about I show you to your duties? You might need a hand in relearning such responsibilities."

Dimitri nodded, "Yes. I would like that."

Gilbert and Dimitri worked in the cardinal room until lunch time, when Gilbert said, "I imagine our professor is awake if you would like to hunt him down. It will do us some good to take a break here."

Dimitri would be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed by just all the tasks thrown at him. Though they did not leave that room all morning, the workload barely looked touched.

"Yeah. Any idea where he would be?" He asked.

"That's anyone's guess. The professor runs all over the monastery on these off days of his. Ask around. I'm sure someone can point you in the right direction."

"Ask around . . ." Dimitri repeated. Everyone still avoided him, and for good reasons. Dimitri left without opening a conversation on his hesitancy. He did not need to hear a lecture on how he was owed loyalty from his peers. Gilbert meant well, but Dimitri failed at a human level. Nobility did not matter in this.

He walked to the library first, checking other rooms along the way. Not finding him there, he made his way to the audience chamber. The other two professors were arguing about some triviality but hushed when they saw Dimitri.

"Hello," Dimitri said, "Have you seen the professor?"

"He hasn't been up here today," Manuela answered, "Oh, but if you do find him, yell at him for me. I told him that if he carries on like he has been, that tear will open right back up! And I hate stitching things up twice."

"What tear?" Dimitri asked.

"Oh. At Gronder he managed to let down his guard enough for a spear to hit him. I think he was – " She coughed and Dimitri winced at her explanation, "Anyway, give him these. They're medicinal herbs that'll dull the pain. Like the stubborn mule that he is, he purposefully left them in the infirmary, and I have not seen him since."

Dimitri took the bag of herbs. He was with the professor after Gronder happened. They were together that night – when the professor held him. How did he not notice an injury? And by a spear, no less . . .

"I will get these to him," Dimitri left them, eager to sort this out, and went down to the first floor. Students unsuited for war still gathered in the academy areas, but the professor was not among them. Not seeing anyone he recognized, he continued toward the dormitory, but stopped at the training grounds. As expected, Felix was there swinging his sword around, as well as Leonie, Raphael, and Caspar.

Felix scoffed and barely made eye contact. Caspar and Leonie stopped long enough to give a garbled greeting, before returning to their own drills, while Raphael did not react at all.

"Has anyone seen the professor?" Dimitri asked.

Leonie stopped her training and shook her head, "Not since this morning."

No one else had anything to add.

"Alright. Thank you," Dimitri said, but thought about the wounds Manuela mentioned, "He wasn't up here training, was he?"

"Nope. He wanted to check equipment, but I took that job for him," Leonie answered.

"Okay. Good. I'll leave you to it," Dimitri left the training grounds and asked the people he recognized along the way. They all said practically the same thing – the professor hadn't been around since earlier in the day.

He walked into the greenhouse and found Dedue tending the gardens. Dimitri smiled, "Hey. Dedue. Do you have a moment?"

"Of course. How can I help?"

"Have you seen the professor?"

"Hmm," He nodded, "You actually just missed him. He helped weed and we had a . . . discussion."

"That sounds serious," Dimitri questioned, "Nothing bad, I hope?"

"Just that he should prioritize his own safety a little better."

"Is this about his new wound?"

Dedue answered, "So you know about that. Yes. I've seen how he's been carrying himself lately."

"Can you explain what you mean by that?"

Dedue nodded, "He has always had a bad habit of taking on too much on his own. That has only gotten worse. He also tends to separate himself from the rest of the troops when we're on the battlefield. Those two qualities led to his injuries."

"I see. That's good to know."

"If I may add, you need to stop running off on your own as well. If you put yourself in danger, the professor will do the same."

Dimitri did not answer right away, but eventually said, "I will work on that."

"Thank you. Losing you or the professor would be detrimental. Go ahead and find him. I will be here for a while longer."

If Dimitri did not pass the professor by the dormitory, then the next logical step would be by the pond. From there, either the dining hall, the marketplace, or the stables.

Alois was by the pond and stopped Dimitri, "Hello there, Dimitri. Can you believe the professor? I was gone for five minutes buying more bait and come back to his bucket half filled! I still haven't caught a single fish."

"Hard to fathom," Dimitri held back his sarcasm, "Is the professor still around?"

"Oh no, that was this morning. He ran off with his fish, but I have no idea where he went after that."

"Thank you for the information. Um. Good luck catching those fish . . ."

"Eh, I ran out of bait so now I will just have to wait until I can buy more. The professor was a bit mad that I used up all the bait, though. If you find him, can you give him this? It's a specialized one that he might make better use of. It's the last one of the bunch."

"Yeah," Dimitri accepted the bait and said, "Hard to imagine him mad, though."

"Well. There was a certain look in his eye when I told him. He's been doing a lot of fishing lately; I wonder if he just needed a hobby?"

"A hobby, huh?" Dimitri recalled seeing the professor spending a lot of time fishing.

He left Alois and headed toward the cafeteria. It was lunchtime, after all, and it sounded like the professor already had a full morning. Ingrid and Sylvain were in line and Dimitri approached them first.

"Hello Dimitri," Ingrid said. Sylvain had a similar expression to Felix but nodded cordially.

"Hello. Have either of you seen the professor?"

"Nope," Ingrid said, "We just got here ourselves, so we can't even tell you if he's eaten yet."

"I see. Thank you," Dimitri asked the cooks if they knew anything more than Ingrid.

"Sorry. Not since he dropped off the fish," She shook her head.

"The fish?"

"Every Sunday, he brings as much fish as he can spare, along with vegetation. Everyone is sick of fish, but otherwise we'd all be starving."

That explained it, then. He was doing food runs . . .

"Although," The cook said, "I don't believe I've actually seen him sit down and eat for a while, thinking about it."

"How long is a while?" Dimitri found himself frowning.

"It's been . . . a few days . . ." She shrugged, "But, I'm not always here. I'm sure he's eating . . ."

Dimitri hoped so, and left to search through the common areas, before ending up at the stables. Not seeing the professor there, he went to the marketplace. He saw Catherine and Shamir, but still no professor.

Catherine approached, "Hey, Dimitri. I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Did the professor go that way?" She pointed toward the courtyard.

"I was actually hoping you knew where he was," Dimitri sighed.

"Ah. Well, he was here a few moments ago – but as soon as he left, our shipment arrived. Damned luck, right? So, Shamir and I were hoping to flag him back down to get his input."

"Shipment?"

"Yeah. We have a lot of broken weapons. We also have a lot of soldiers. We need to prioritize equipment allocation but lacked the resources to do so until – literately – the second he walked away." Catherine exhaled heavily, but then said, "We have time. It just seems to work out this way more often than not."

"If I catch up with him, I'll let him know."

"Great! Thanks. Shamir and I are splitting up – I'm guessing you had business with him as well?"

"I – not as urgently," Dimitri nodded, "Should I tell him to meet you here?"

"We really need to work out a messaging system. Uh, yeah. Back here works . . ." Catherine and Shamir split off in different directions, leaving Dimitri at a loss. They had better reasons to take up the professor's time – and it was clear that the dream was nothing more than his mind messing with him. Dealing with affirmation could wait.

He decided to eat his lunch quickly. He would not complain any longer – they all had their parts and Dimitri swore to do his in full.

Annette and Mercedes joined Dimitri; those two seemed to have no fear regarding Dimitri's mannerisms the last few months.

"Don't mind us," Mercedes smiled brilliantly, "We thought to say hello."

"You looked kind of lonely, sitting here by yourself," Annette sat down with her food.

"Lonely, huh?" Dimitri chuckled. Maybe he was, "Well, since you're joining me, I have to ask . . . Have either of you seen the professor?"

"Nope," Mercedes said cheerfully, "He'll likely be at choir practice this evening. 7 o'clock sharp."

"No. That practice is cancelled," Annette reminded, "The children's concert hosted by Dory and Professor Manuela will be tonight at 8."

"Ohh, right. Professor will show up for that, then."

"Choir practice? The professor?" Dimitri asked.

"Every week," Mercedes unwrapped her cupcake before touching her actual lunch, "He's got a lovely voice. But, Dimitri, you've been in the cathedral all this time. You didn't notice?"

"I –" Maybe he was physically there, but mentally? He didn't know the practice still gathered, though remember hearing singing . . . "No. I will have to come listen."

"He's shy about it, though."

"The first time he showed up, you could tell he was just kind of mouthing the words. The more he came, the more he started to vocalize. We try not to say anything, though, because he'll just clam right back up," Annette explained.

"Professor Manuela tried to get him to star in their production next month, but he ran out before the auditions were started. He was not seen again until the war council," Mercedes laughed, "I don't think he's cut for opera life."

"You know, I think I would have done just about anything to see him star in an opera," Dimitri laughed at the thought, "I was never a big fan of them, but seeing our professor at the center of it would change my mind."

"Forcing him to go would just make him disappear again," Annette joked.

"Annie," Mercedes gasped, "Don't say such things! I don't want to think about that anymore."

"Sorry," Annette couldn't look either of them in the eye. Dimitri said nothing and Mercedes continued to eat. Annette recovered and added, "You should come to practice, Dimitri. It's a lot of fun."

"I can't really sing," He shook his head.

"Does it matter?" Mercedes said, "In a group, all voices merge together to create a masterpiece, unique every time."

"I am not going to be the dissonant note in that," Dimitri still rejected the offer.

"Hmm. You know enough about music to make a joke about it," Mercedes speculated, "Perhaps you just need some lessons."

"I've had plenty of those. Required etiquette classes before I came here," He explained.

"Then you should be an expert," Mercedes rebutted.

"I am no expert. Believe me on that. My voice is absolutely no good."

Mercedes looked him dead in the eye. All emotion from her face drained and they were locked in an uncomfortable stare off. Finally, she gave and said, "The professor said the exact same thing."

She went back to her normal self and finished her plate.

"Ready for seconds?" Annette asked, completely unphased by the spectacle that just took place. Dimitri found some humor in it, but declined, "I really have to get back to work."

"Oh, darn. You should come by for practice later," Mercedes said.

"The concert," Annette corrected, "8 tonight. You can at least come to that, right?"

"I'll think about it," Dimitri excused himself, returned his dirtied plate, and left the dining hall. At least he knew where to find the professor in the evening, if nothing else. Before he returned to Gilbert, he stopped by the professor's room and knocked on the off chance he was there.

"Professor?" He called, opening the door. He spent quite some time in this room.

The professor kept his room tidied as usual. He set the medicinal bag and the bait on the desk and noticed the birthday card and brooch Dimitri gave him all those years ago.

He remembered the tension that month. Edelgard's army marched on Garreg Mach that day, so they never had a chance to celebrate it properly. His birthday was also the last day anyone saw him for five long, horrible years.

The professor's birthday already came and went this year, Dimitri realized. He was too absorbed in his own misery to have given it any thought. Luckily, he saw a card from Gilbert as well.

A small piece of paper, sitting on an orange/brown journal, on the upper deck of the desk caught his attention. It held only a single name, 'Eisner'.

Dimitri couldn't place the name, but he swore he heard it somewhere. He left the room and tossed the name in his head on his way back to Gilbert.

He decided to stop by the library first. On the second floor was a collection of names who had ever lived or had dealings in the monastery. He searched for the surname and found a collection of folders. The first name was 'Araleth Eisner'.

He did not recognize the name Araleth. Her certificate of birth had no family name listed, but the day of her birth was 3/31/1139 – the professor's birthday.

"Hmm," Dimitri hummed at the coincidence and studied the birth certificate in full.

Her birth details were listed as:

Surname : N/A

Given Name : Araleth

Mother : Unnamed Pilgrim who died in childbirth while visiting the monastery

Father : Unknown

_Named by Archbishop Rhea and given a life as a nun._

On the next page, a certification of marriage – to Jeralt Eisner, on 3/15/1159. It was officiated and overseen by the Archbishop; her signature graced the document with an elegant message, '_May the Goddess bless this union._'

"Oh!" It clicked just then. 'Eisner' was Jeralt's last name, and therefore the professor's. He just stumbled on clues he desperately wanted for many years. He then wondered, "The professor's birthday was the same as his mother's?"

He turned over to the next page, barely containing his excitement, but it was not as merry. It was her death certificate – 9/20/1159.

Reason of death: Childbirth.

"That can't be right."

The collection ended with her death certificate, and so Dimitri pulled the next name in the 'Eisner' section. The name belonged to a 'Byleth Eisner'.

". . . Byleth?"

The first document in the surprisingly empty folder was a birth certificate. Sure enough, the certificate of birth read as 9/20/1159.

Mother : Araleth Eisner

Father : Jeralt Eisner

The next page, however, was equally daunting.

It was a certification of death . . . 10/07/1159.

Cause of death: Perished in the Flames.

"What is this?" Dimitri found himself exclaiming aloud. He felt his hopes dwindle. This was not the information he wished for, nor was it expected.

"The Flames," Dimitri searched in a different section, and looked at the history of the monastery. He searched by date and found all the records in the year 1159 and skipped to the tenth month. A fire was indeed reported that day, month, and year. It was a notably bad fire, and the details enclosed were not pleasant.

Unable to stomach reading about it, he looked for any other names related to 'Eisner', but only the one for Jeralt existed.

No other details in Byleth's file, either. The baby was born. The mother died. A fire broke out, claiming the life of the newborn . . . and then Jeralt left, probably unable to bear the weight of all that loss at once. That also meant the professor must have been born afterward, Dimitri concluded.

Something about this timeline felt objectively wrong, but it also struck a nerve in Dimitri – all he wanted was a name, but now he had knowledge of another set of tragedies. Beyond that, the professor's file did not appear with his family. He wondered why that would be.

Jeralt's folder contained significantly more papers but lacked a birth record. There were assortments of accomplishments, and even when he became captain (though the date smeared and was now illegible).

There were secondary copies of the marriage and birth of Byleth, and finally Jeralt's death certificate, which ended the folder's contents. If they added a death certificate, that meant they kept this family up to date, yet still missed a whole person.

His mind raced. He should not have investigated this. He should have waited for the professor. Dimitri left the library with more questions and even less answers; and now it would nag at him until he fully understood the situation. That would be his punishment for prying.

He finally returned to the cardinal room, where Seteth and Gilbert argued.

"For the last time, that information was gathered in confidence," Seteth shook his head, "If you really want to know, ask him yourself."

Gilbert grunted in response. Dimitri raised an eyebrow, "What is going on here?"

"We all know that you researched this, already. Why not share in your findings? After all, His Highness and I have wanted to know our professor's identity for some time now."

"That is all well and good, but I'm afraid I cannot say anything more without the professor present and consented," Seteth did not back down.

"Gilbert, wait," Dimitri said, "Seteth is right . . . If the professor tells us his story, that's great. If not, there's no need to push for it."

Seteth nodded with a smile, "That is reasonable. If that is all, I shall take my leave."

"Oh, Seteth," Dimitri stopped him, "Have you seen him? I have been missing him all day."

"Did you not cross paths on your way back here? You probably missed him by ten minutes or so," Seteth answered.

"I am sensing a trend," Dimitri sighed heavily. Had he not detoured to the library, he might have seen the professor instead.

Seteth left and Gilbert inquired, "I'm guessing your task of finding the professor was in vain? Don't feel too bad about it. He's hard to track on these 'free days' of his."

"I noticed," Dimitri laughed, "I can't believe how much he's taken on. I am grateful for it, of course . . . And I do trust him, knowing his name or not."

"As I suspected, Seteth does know something but isn't parting with the knowledge."

Dimitri shook his head, "I wonder why Seteth knows more than we do. Anyway, we have work to do. Where did we leave off?"

"You are eager to jump right back into the swing of things, aren't you? Very well."

'Perished in the flames', repeated in Dimitri's mind as he filtered through paperwork. That phrasing sounded especially sinister, given that it was about an infant. Despite his attempts, he could not block it from his mind.

'The swing of things . . . ' It was certainly a task, but he would do it. He had to. This was his atonement.


	2. Searching For Answers

* Author note : It's the end of Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 that is the start of the violent chapters, not chapter 4. I wrote the wrong one down in my last note. It deals with death / loss and might be upsetting.

Searching for Answers

Their efforts were but a drop in the bucket. No matter how much Gilbert and Dimitri worked, they barely dented it. Neither complained and dutifully carried on.

"We should break for supper," Gilbert suggested. Dimitri wiped his forehead, though he remained eager to push on, "There is still much to do. I ate not too long ago."

"Did you want to find the professor?"

Dimitri debated on how to answer that. He then remembered the cook mentioned the lack of the professor's presence in the dining hall during mealtime.

"If I can find him," Dimitri laughed, recalling his earlier failure.

"Let's go and see if he's queuing for supper," Gilbert nodded.

Dimitri added, "Mercedes and Annette mentioned he would be in the cathedral at 8. If we can't find him at dinner, I will try there next."

They walked the hall and talked about their next tasks. When they were out of earshot of council members, Dimitri asked, "I want to ask something . . .Is there a way to find records of anyone with the family name 'Eisner' who was also born in the last 25 years? They would have to be born outside the monastery."

"And here I was under the impression you wanted to leave it alone? You're trying to find the professor's birth documents, aren't you?"

"Then you recognize that name."

"Yes. I do. Seteth already spent time and effort collecting such information but let me be perfectly frank. Nothing exists for our professor beyond eyewitness reports of deeds."

"Back when I met the professor, some of Jeralt's men were about to tell me his name, but never completed it. None of those mercenaries could give an answer?"

"If they could, they elected to lie. It may have been an order from Jeralt."

"Do you think Jeralt purposefully kept the professor's identity a secret? But for what purpose? We can trace them back to each other, so what would they have to gain by hiding all of this?"

"Actually, we cannot trace the professor to Jeralt," Gilbert corrected, "Not by birth or by surname. The professor doesn't exist on paper and therefore cannot be connected to Jeralt Eisner or his other family. It's as if the professor doesn't exist."

"Araleth and Byleth . . ." Dimitri reflected with a hint of sadness.

"Unfortunate, that. Pardon me for saying, but a newborn who perished has more paper trail than the professor. Jeralt hid details and now Seteth is following through. What secret is so grand that they felt the need to conceal it?"

Dimitri shook his head. He felt his forehead tighten with frustration, "I do not know. To be honest, the more I think about it, the more confused I become. I should just put this to rest until the professor clarifies this."

"I wonder if he will."

"I will try to talk to him. He's dodged the question every time it's come up, though."

"Exactly my point. It seems you and I have both already looked into the Eisner family as a recourse – what exists of it, anyway."

"I noticed some oddities about those files," said Dimitri, "For example, the professor shares the same birthday as Araleth."

"Does he?" Gilbert had not notice that detail, "How strange. It might be nothing more than coincidence. Or, it might be something else."

Dimitri stopped walking and crossed his arms. He tried to think of an alternative reason. Gilbert clarified his concerns, "It seems that Jeralt did all he could to erase this child. Jeralt could have used a birthdate he already knew in place of the professor's actual one, to further this eradication."

"But why?" Dimitri asked, feeling his frustration surfacing.

"Honestly, I cannot think of a single good reason. There is something obviously wrong about the entire affair. I approve of the professor by his character. Everything he has done and continues to do has brought great fortune. And yet this entire pull is out of the ordinary, questionable in its very nature and contradictory to the professor's normal behavior."

"Whether or not the birthday is wrong is conjecture at this point. Still, the rest doesn't make any sense. I hope there's a genuine good reason for all of this."

They were at the cafeteria and mutually disbanded the topic. Shamir noticed Dimitri and approached, "Hey. The professor said he'll be at the cathedral at 7."

"Oh. Thank you for telling me. I'm guessing you found him and handled the weapon supplies," Dimitri smiled. She nodded.

"He also wanted to give this to you," It was a report detailing materials purchased and forge details, "Requisition is in place for the blacksmith. If you'll excuse me," She left without another word.

"Ah, the weapon situation," Gilbert reached for the paper, which Dimitri surrounded, "I see. He's favoring recovery of iron and steel over specialty ones such as silver and brave. A choice to make sure everyone is armed. That leaves us only a handful of expertise weapons."

"So, you knew about this as well," Dimitri inquired.

"I did, yes."

"What should we do with this report?"

"Review it. We have the power to veto this and propose a different solution. It can wait until later." Gilbert tri-folded the document and stuck it in his breast pocket. They lined up for dinner and conversed.

In the time they spent together, they avoided bringing up the 'Eisner Family' problem and instead focused on kingdom ones. Once they finished dinner, Dimitri and Gilbert traveled together to the cathedral, constructively arguing about the professor's proposed weapon solution.

Once they reached the cathedral, Dimitri finally saw the person he searched for off and on all day. Gilbert sat in a pew and read over the report while Dimitri approached him. The professor was talking to a man and a child. The man sat on a stool while the professor healed his shoulder wound. A brilliant white and blue light emanated from the professor's palm.

The child excitedly spoke in a high-pitched voice, "Isn't that right, daddy?" The kid said, "You can do a thousand push-ups and sit-ups! Look! Look! I can, too! Just like you taught me!"

The child then proceeded to put his hands on the ground and put his body in a full upside down 'V' position. His 'push-up' was more of him wiggling back and forth.

"Son . . ." The man shook his head. The professor smiled at the child's attempt to show off. The kid bounced back to his feet, then pointed at the professor, exclaiming, "Your turn!"

"Son!" the father said more forcefully, getting embarrassed.

The professor shook his head and said, "Oh, no. I am incapable of doing that."

The kid jumped around and ran to a pew, "I'm going to go do some training!" He said gleefully.

The professor finished healing and the father stood up, thanked the professor for his help, and chased after the hyper child. The professor laughed at the scene and, to Dimitri, it was the purest view.

He suddenly remembered his feelings toward the professor taking a similar turn five years ago, at the Goddess Tower. Or, before that even when Dimitri first witnessed the professor's sincere smile. Those same feelings overtook him, and all Dimitri could focus on was how amazing he found the professor.

The professor initiated conversation, "I hear you've been looking for me."

"Yeah," Was all Dimitri could manage. He stared at the professor, just appreciating the man. A sense of longing incapacitated him, overriding everything else for a short time.

It did not help the professor wore his warlock attire since switching personal focus, and those robes hugged his body and exposed muscle details that his normal armor would otherwise cover.

"Well, here I am. What did you need?" The professor said with a compassionate tone, barely breaking Dimitri from his trance.

What did he need, again?

Dimitri wondered what thoughts were going on behind those beautiful eyes fixated on him. The professor did not fidget under the staring contest. He stayed even keeled through it, patiently waiting for Dimitri to vocalize.

Unfortunately, they did not have an infinite supply of time and the kids gathered before the pews. The professor gently touched Dimitri's arm and pointed to where Gilbert sat, "The warmup is starting soon. Shall we sit?"

Dimitri nodded, still utterly dumbfounded. They walked and the professor promised, "We can talk after."

Gilbert noticed the change and stood, "I shall take my leave. We can pick up tomorrow."

"Not sticking around?" The professor asked.

"Oh no, too much to be done. You two enjoy yourselves."

"This will last at most two hours," the professor argued, "You don't have that much time to spare?"

"Afraid not," Gilbert remained firm. Dimitri wanted to say something, but Gilbert interjected, "The future king and the acting archbishop watching kids sing a concert is good for morale. I am not needed."

Gilbert left quickly after and the professor saw why he was so eager to leave. Annette and Mercedes greeted them.

"Hello there," Mercedes said.

"Glad you could make it," Annette said, "By the way, was that my father just now?"

"Yes," The professor said, "He will not be joining us."

"Ah," She pouted.

"I tried," The professor said.

"You're fine," Annette assured, still exposing her hurt, "Mercie and I were going up to help set up, anyway. Maybe next time."

"You two want to get music stands?" Mercie asked.

The professor nodded. Dimitri hesitated.

"I'm not sure that I should be around kids," he mumbled, "I might scare them."

Mercie gave him a concerned expression, "I don't think you would look all that scary to them."

"I don't feel confident about that."

"We're not pushing you into anything that you're not comfortable with," The professor said, raising an eyebrow, "Right?"

Mercedes cackled, "You're too funny, professor. Annie, are you coming?"

"Yup," They left to help set up.

"Getting laughed at was not the response I was looking for."

"That laugh of hers was a bit sinister."

"Mercedes has always been a tad evil," Dimitri chuckled at the professor's conclusion. The choir members helped the children set up in the mostly vacant chapel. Byleth wondered if there was a task that Dimitri could participate in, understanding where his hesitancy came from.

Then again, they both probably could use a break, so Byleth took a seat and left room for Dimitri. They settled in and wordlessly watched them prepare for the concert. Dimitri rehearsed how to approach the professor on the information he stumbled on.

He remembered all the concerns about his health, too, but waited to bring it up. He did, however, look the professor over to find the wound. It was as he thought – the professor had no obvious signs of being injured, though that was not too surprising.

After the stands and music sheets were in place, Manuela hushed the chattering children, who gave her undivided attention. At the wave of her hand, they 'ommed' in harmonious unison, then did a warmup. Families started filling the pews; knights, maids, nurses – all sorts of members vital to the church's success.

A mother who rocked a crying babe, probably around 6 months old, said to her husband, "I cannot get her to calm. I might have to leave."

"Is she hungry?" The father asked.

"Fed her ten minutes ago."

"Poopy pants?"

"No . . ." She patted the child's behind and said, "Dry."

"Bedtime?"

"I thought it would be okay. She had a long nap but if not she could fall asleep here."

Byleth listened to the cry. Something in him knew the answer, "Her first tooth is coming in. She's feeling discomfort."

"What? She's too young for that," The mother stuck her finger in the child's mouth and felt a bump in the gums, ". . . Honey? Do we still have a teether in that bag?"

"A teether?" He dug around and found something she could use. The child calmed down as it brushed against her incoming tooth.

"How did you know that?" The mother asked, "We have two older children and their teeth did not come in this early. Well, thank you!"

"Do you have kids?" The father asked.

"No."

"Ah. You'll be a natural parent when the time comes," The father chuckled.

"I don't think I'm going to be a parent," The professor spoke quietly.

"It happens, whether you're prepared for it or not," The dad winked and the mother took her seat with the pacified infant.

"Not with my taste," he mumbled even quieter and no one heard.

Dimitri stated, "You really do have all the answers . . ."

"Not really . . ."

Dorothea and Manuela began to address the audience, greeting them and expressing gratitude for all in attendance.

The audience stilled, the lights dimmed, and the kids began their routine. It was a standard concert. The children were decent, if you considered their developing voicing still had a ways to go.

It was a good thing the professor sat on the side of Dimitri's patched eye; if he had constant visual on the professor, Dimitri would have ogled the entire time. He looked over periodically and was surprised that the professor kept his focus on the production.

Dimitri had the feeling that the professor had a bond of sorts with these kids. Thinking about it in those terms, Dimitri began to understand the professor a little more.

The audience applauded between songs. Halfway through the next song, Dimitri looked over and noticed the professor's eyes growing heavy. His head bobbed as he started to give into sleep.

Dimitri lightly nudged him. The professor woke and looked at Dimitri. He yawned, covering his mouth, then rolled his shoulder blades.

He stayed awake through the rest of it, yawning occasionally and shifting to remain conscious. Manuela and Dorothea once again took to the front and presented a closing ceremony and last thanks, before dismissing the children to their families. The light in the cathedral returned and chatting filled the room.

The professor stood up and pointed toward the outside of the chapel, toward the tower. They dodged the crowds of united families – the atmosphere was joyous and celebratory.

They could still hear their merriment from outside, but they were alone under a calm evening sky.

"45 minutes," The professor said, "Understandable. Kids don't exactly have that great of an attention span."

"How long do these normally last?"

"With Manuela and Dorothea in charge? Something like three hours. They do love a lengthy drama."

"You come to these often, then?"

"For the shorter ones, I do. Gilbert wasn't wrong with what he said earlier . . . The ones who don't fight are often left in anticipation when we depart, so it's good to ease their anxiety while we're here."

"So, you come here to boost morale?"

"It's also enjoyable. Not very many chances to just sit down and not focus on anything."

"Do you like opera?"

The professor shook his head, "Not really. I like the plays more, but those always end up with song and dance too. Can you imagine that in real life? Suddenly breaking into a song after every emotional experience."

"Not at all."

"It's really immersion breaking, if you ask me."

Dimitri smiled, "I didn't see that one coming. Do you ever perform?"

"Not a chance. I'll leave that to the professionals."

Dimitri remembered the dead stare as Mercedes said early, and baited him, "Surely, you're on a professional level by now if you're showing up to practice. You should sing in front of an audience."

"Oh, no," The professor crossed his arms, "I am no expert. Believe me."

Dimitri laughed in response as Mercedes was proven right. They did have similar responses and it filled him with more joy than it should have.

"Are you finished?" The professor said, though he smiled as well.

"I'm sorry," He said catching his breath, "It was just something Mercedes said earlier."

The professor sighed, "Mercedes. Should've known."

"Oh, yeah?" Dimitri asked.

"Well . . . It's nothing, really. I just don't want to perform."

"Hmm," Dimitri felt very little sympathy, "You chose me for the Heron Ball, remember? Now you know how it feels to be put on the spot like that."

"Oh, hush. If you hadn't reacted the way you did, I would've chosen someone else. Too funny not to at that point. You won that, remember? You're welcome," The professor joked along.

"Just as I captivated the judges, you can captivate the audience."

"Only if you join me."

"Not on your life. My voice isn't very good – though word has it, you have a lovely singing voice."

"Damn it, Mercedes," The professor cursed, "It's not that great."

"The fact that two opera stars are pushing this much tells me otherwise. Can you imagine the morale boost from that?"

The professor clicked his tongue and had a menacing look in his eyes. Dimitri knew that meant the professor was on the losing end of the argument. Dimitri was far from done stirring the pot, "It does feel good to be on the other end of this. Now I see why you enjoyed my suffering through the dance so much."

"You're playing with fire. Just remember that."

"Not the first time I've been burned."

"Next time a battle gets rough, I'll come up with a number just for you. But only if you wear that lovely dancer robe."

"Oh. That's a hard one."

"I take it you had a real reason for wanting to see me?"

"I did. This is infinitely more entertaining, though."

"Oh, I know it is."

"Perhaps I shouldn't tease you. I used to worry about how you take it."

"I've survived plenty of battles. Do you think words can touch me?"

"Maybe the right words. From the right mouth. Preferably in a singsong tone, in front of the entire monastery."

"Yours? Should I point you to the signup sheet?"

"Don't turn this around on me. They want you, so this is your battle."

"They outnumber me three to one. Are you really going to leave me to the wolves?"

"Okay," Dimitri chuckled, "Phrased like that, maybe I can spare some sympathy."

Despite the cool breeze, Dimitri felt warm. On the rare times the professor bantered, it always ended flirtatious.

"Speaking of wolves," the professor said. He looked past Dimitri, toward the chapel entrance. From within, Manuela emerged and involved herself in their conversation.

"Well, isn't this a treat. Our prince and our archbishop sat together and enjoyed the children's act. I'm glad you could spare some free time."

"Yes," Dimitri nodded, "They did well."

"Of course they did! Wouldn't put the little tikes out there if they couldn't perform. Formalities aside, professor, I wanted a word with you. When I went to count supplies, we had a discrepancy with the pain medicine. Care to explain why?"

"I am not in charge of medical supplies. Ask someone else," He suddenly switched to icy again.

"What was the discrepancy?" Dimitri asked.

"Somehow we ended up with extra medicine. The same given to our professor."

"What a coincidence." The professor yawned, "I am well spent. I think I'll call it a night and rest. Doctor's orders."

"Don't you 'Doctor's orders' me! That's one hell of a coincidence, don't you think? Or, maybe the reality is you put them back instead of taking them, as I actually instructed!?"

"I was only returning what was misplaced. No miscalculation."

Manuela huffed, "Why are you being so difficult? Those were meant so you didn't have to suffer through much pain."

The professor shook his head, "I'm not in any pain."

"Really?" Manuela pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and dropped it on the ground, "Oh dear, how clumsy of me. Can you please pick that up for me?"

"I don't see why the burden of that responsibility falls to me. In this light, it blends into the stone and I wouldn't be able to find it, regardless."

"You wouldn't be a gentleman and help a lady out?"

"Don't those pins come in cases? You can find a replacement easily enough."

"Hmph. You really are rude. Fine. If you find yourself writhing, don't come sobbing to me."

She left the two of them and all became silent once more. Some of Dimitri's earlier worries came back and he asked, "You're not lying about being in any pain, right?"

"I'm fine," His tone was rife with agitation.

Dimitri pressed his concerns, "I heard from a cook earlier that you haven't been seen eating in the dining hall lately. You are taking care of yourself, right?"

The professor shrugged.

"That is not an answer. When was the last time you ate?"

"This morning. . ."

"That's still not ideal. Was it at least a full meal?"

The professor avoided eye contact.

"Well? What was it?"

"I can't remember something that inconsequential."

"Hmm. That's a strange way of saying 'I'm lying through my teeth', don't you think?"

"Do I need to keep a food log for everyone who seems to think my dietary habits are their business?"

Dimitri crossed his arms, "If multiple people are asking, then there's probably cause for concern."

"Should I get a journal and timestamp with signatures after each time I eat?"

"If it's necessary, then sure."

"Make sure you do some shopping around. I expect a gold star for each time I successfully complete an assignment."

"Why are you being so flippant about this?"

"I'm feeling a bit lightheaded and you berating me is only making it worse. Not you, you. Just the general you. All of you. I can take care of myself. Been doing it for quite some time now."

Dimitri had a moment of DeJa'Vu from the academy days.

"You sure the lightheaded part isn't due to lack of nutrition?"

"The human body can survive a week or more without food. I'll manage."

"Really? That an admission, professor? How many days in a row have you gone without food?" Dimitri asked, "Or, have you lost track?"

The professor sighed, "I've been eating – here and there."

"Snacking? That is not enough." Dimitri tried not to get angry, but the professor was being very difficult. He realized how similar the pair of them were.

"I just don't have the time for that."

"So, you have time for choir and plays, but not enough for dinner? I'm having a hard time with your priorities."

The professor shrugged, "The infirmary overflow is here, where I bandage wounded soldiers. The aftermath of Gronder's been keeping us busy. Besides, I remember you skipping out on food. Don't get 'holier than thou' on me."

"That is true. I cannot deny that. The meals I do eat are heavier in protein, though."

"Well, if we start holding each other accountable, maybe we'll get somewhere. Or, we enable each other's bad habits. Either which way."

"That's one way to look at it," Dimitri hesitated to ask, but followed with, "Do you want to start having lunch together?"

The professor's rigid demeanor softened, "Pick a time. Otherwise we will just keep missing each other."

"What's your routine?"

"I don't have one," The professor chuckled, "I walk around in a circle, remember things along the way, and get accosted into doing chores by others. There's really no rhyme or reason to any of it."

Dimitri sighed heavily. The crowd in the chapel thinned out. The professor shuddered, reacting to the cold; Dimitri gently grasped the professor's arm and said, "Let's go back in. it's getting cold out and you're underdressed."

Byleth allowed Dimitri to lead. Although they went in to escape the cold, a relentless chilling draft invaded from the crumbling dome. They sat down in the first row of pews. Only a few of the candlesticks were still lit.

"I keep hearing that Gronder was bad," Dimitri couldn't remember it at all for the most part, "What's your take on that?"

"I would not repeat it if possible."

"So, pretty bad then . . ."

". . . Yeah, it was." Byleth said. A drain washed over him and he knew he would not last much longer, "Before it gets much later, what did you need from me?"

Dimitri fell silent, thinking about the nightmare that involved the professor, "I just wanted to see you. That's all."

"Ah," The professor's face was warm and inviting, "Well, if that's all, I'm free for the remainder of the night."

Dimitri's heart raced again. He probably meant until bedtime, but Dimitri pictured a recurrence of his birthday and cursed himself for it.

Instead of pursing it, Dimitri said, "We shouldn't carry on too long. You still need to eat and rest."

"If you're ordering it, I won't refuse."

"Stop being so melodramatic. This isn't the same as me giving a command."

"Is it not? Will you lay off if I refuse? No? Then tell me the difference, my lord."

"You're a really difficult man, you know that, right?"

"Lucky enough for you," The professor tucked some of his hair behind his ear, "I don't mind the thought of taking orders from you."

Dimitri balled his fists, gripping his thighs in the process. Byleth laughed internally at his reaction, and change the topic, "How's the kingdom tasks coming along?"

"Oh," Dimitri paused, "We won't make too much progress until we take back control. Otherwise, what we can get done is . . . well, it's a mess."

"You'll get there."

"Confident as ever, aren't you?" He was sounding discouraged again.

"What else should I be?"

"'Humble' is out of the question, I suppose."

"As if there were ever any doubt to the contrary."

"Well, it's rarely steered you wrong, so not harm in it. There aren't many who can claim the same. I hope you'll keep that in mind."

"Somewhere in the back. Where people's names are stored."

"You forget everyone's names. But, I think that was your point?"

"Nothing gets by you," Byleth winked.

"You can be a bit cruel sometimes. One moment you're praising and encouraging, the next, downright insulting."

"I'm sorry. I meant nothing by it. Just giving you a hard time, but I will watch what I say more carefully."

"Oh?" Dimitri's own face lit up, "So, humility IS in your grasp! I have to say, professor, I didn't know you had it in you! I'm so proud of you!"

Byleth's face dropped, "You set me up?"

"Not intentionally, but it did work out beautifully. You know what they say about when opportunity presents itself. I accept your apology, by the by."

The professor puckered his lips, scrutinizing Dimitri. Dimitri responded by laughing loudly, saying between breaths, "I remember a time where you denied partaking in banter such as this. Do you realize how much you've changed?"

"That is only natural. You, and all the other students, have all grown in ways I didn't expect."

"Yours is by far the most drastic, if you don't mind me saying."

"I'm not entirely sure that's true."

The last of the families left and the choir members also cleared the vicinity. They were the only two left in the area, aside from the guards presumably standing watch outside.

"Professor, there is something I wanted to ask you about, now that we are alone."

"I'm listening."

"When I went looking for you earlier, I stopped by your room thinking you might be there."

"Oh, that was you. I thought Manuela was being passive aggressive about me taking my medicine."

"Sorry for that confusion. I wanted to give them to you in person but ran out of time."

"No worries," The professor straightened the creases in his robes. His fingers were long and narrow – and distracting.

"While I was in your room," Dimitri focused, "I saw a name on a scrap of paper in your room. 'Eisner'."

"Oh."

"That's Jeralt's last name, so it should be yours. Only, I can't find anything that matches for you. I know I snooped, and I should have asked you first; but isn't it time you cleared this up?"

"It might just be. What did you find?"

"Well. . . Do the names Araleth and Byleth mean anything to you?"

"Yes. They do."

"Then you know about Jeralt's deceased wife and child."

"Strange. Where did you find information on . . . on Byleth?" He had a hard time referencing himself like this. When was the last time he spoke his own name?

"The library has a certification of birth and death."

"Ah. The library. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Interesting. It sounds like you're . . . Anyway, there isn't much point. No one else bears the 'Eisner' surname with any connection to Jeralt. . .which leads to a lot of confusion as to where you fit in."

"He did that intentionally," The professor admitted.

"To erase your existence?"

"You came up with this in one afternoon? It's actually kind of impressive."

"So, it's true then? What's the point, though? It's almost like he wanted to hide you away."

"You're on the right track."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Even I'm struggling to piece the full story together. The person who could explain it best is not here."

"Jeralt?" Dimitri guessed.

"No. He had his own doubts, but never got the chance to confirm them."

"Hold on, what are you talking about? What didn't Jeralt know?"

Byleth sighed, "I know this is confusing. I am trying, believe me."

"I just don't know why all of this is necessary. I know you – I've been your student and your friend, and many other things. I've been fighting alongside you for a long time. Hell, I've been in your – "

'bed' he thought while his stomach turned. Dimitri changed his dialogue sequence, "There is absolutely nothing holding you back from revealing your name, is there?"

Byleth, growing tired from neglecting his own health, struggled to find a way to explain it. Dimitri knew about 'Byleth' – or rather, the falsified version. His name was not so easy to give because of it. He fumbled around trying to preface this information; despite wanting to tell Dimitri everything, Jeralt managed to impede any progress with 25 years' worth of bullshit.

His father meant well, but damn was he ever paranoid.

"A mountain of lies," Byleth answered several moments later.

"What?"

"That's what stands in my way . . . If I told you my name, it would only confuse you. If I told you the reason why it was such a secret in the first place, we'd be here all night. And I am passed tired."

"What would be confusing about a name?"

Byleth rubbed his eyes – where to begin?

"That," Byleth compared what Dimitri knew to what the truth was. On paper, Byleth was dead. In actuality –

" – is unfortunately a very difficult thing to explain."

Dimitri sighed, getting nowhere. Then again, what right did he have to hassle the professor over this?

"I guess it's okay, for tonight," Dimitri knew the professor needed to sleep soon, "It is funny to me that Gilbert and Seteth have both looked into this. I'm sure others have as well. And only Seteth seems to have benefited any knowledge."

"That would be because he found my father's journal. Well, there's a thought. All you could ever want to know about my life is in that orange diary."

"I'd honestly rather hear it from you," Dimitri insisted, though knowing he could find the answers really caught his interest. He knew exactly where that diary was, too.

"I'd still probably end up having to explain it to you anyway," He yawned.

"I promise not to sneak into your room and find the journal. Tonight only. If I still can't wrangle it from you tomorrow, I make no guarantees."

The professor chuckled, "You're free to it. I have no objections."

"I'm probably not going to sleep knowing that it exists . . ." Dimitri confessed, "Can I ask you something?"

"Have you ever needed permission?"

". . . Right . . . What would you do if someone you liked well enough to marry also had no idea what your name is, or anything concrete about your past? What would you do then?"

"Where did 'marrying' someone come from?" Byleth sincerely looked stunned.

"Well, I mean, typically someone like that would have to know all of these things about you. How long would you keep that information withheld?"

"I am not intentionally withholding it – I mean, not anymore. It just hadn't been on my mind."

"Wait a moment. You simultaneously didn't know why he kept these details a secret, but also were privy to this plan?"

"When we first arrived here, my father made it perfectly clear that he did not trust the church. I trusted his judgement at the time and followed his instructions to not give my name."

"What was his issue with the church? Also, I am not part of the church, so I don't know why you kept it from me."

"If it makes you feel any better, I accidently almost told you a few times. And, while you were a student here, you technically fell into the 'part of the church' category."

"I'm just going to agree to disagree and move on. Why did Jeralt distrust the church? And did you feel similarly?"

"Yes . . . and yes. Araleth's death was the turning point for him, I believe – and I always felt Rhea wanted to keep me on a short leash. To be honest, I learned later that Jeralt intended for us to leave the monastery for good."

"So, what, one day you were planning on leaving us all, without explanation?" Dimitri's voice raised.

"At the time and if the opportunity presented itself, yes. I would not exist on paper and we would leave Fódlan."

"You would be untraceable," Dimitri's face elongated with surprise, then transitioned back into frustration, "Why would you even accept a teaching position if you knew you might abandon us?"

"You're assuming I was given a choice."

Dimitri was not listening anymore, "I knew it . . . Those first few months, you didn't even care to hide your disdain for being here. Well, I guess I now know the truth of it. So, you went missing for five years. Did you take your chance then, when we needed you the most?"

"That is not what happened," Byleth remained calm and firm.

"How can I possibly believe that? The people I loved left me behind in this hellhole of a world. They did so beyond their choice. And you. You would leave on your own volition. How can I trust anything you tell me?" There was a lot of pain in Dimitri's voice; and unfortunately, Byleth sensed him slipping into that inner darkness.

"I never followed through on that plan. I am here now because I want to be here," Byleth's head pounded. He did not want to argue.

"How long do we have you for this time?"

"I am not going anywhere."

"How do I know that?" His voice mangled with terror and fury.

"Please trust me. I intend to see this through."

"You and I – we," Dimitri paused, "we slept together. It's been a while, so I'm sure you'd forgotten all about that. You said you had interest in coming home with me. Was this plan still in the works then? How long have you been lying to me?"

"I remember that night, Dimitri. I remember that promise. I never lied to you."

"I don't even know what to think," Dimitri's forehead wrinkled and he had a pained look, "I need some air," Dimitri stood up and went for the main doors.

"Dimitri, wait," Byleth reached for him. Dimitri yanked his arm away.

"Alone! I just – I just want to be alone for a while."

Dimitri stormed swiftly away and escaped the cathedral through the main doors, leaving them wide open to blow more unwanted wind in.

Byleth instantly wanted to chase after him, but vertigo took him by surprise. The world spun wildly around him, "Ugh. Why now?"

Byleth took a few steps before he lost footing and impaled his injured side into the corner of the pew. He gasped as the pain electrified his body. He fell to a knee and held the wound; the stone floors freezing him more.

The world did not stay in consistent rotation. Byleth found it hard to lift himself. His body grew heavy, but his head floated, or that's how it felt. The rows of benches multiplied and swayed, weaving in and out of focus.

He climbed on the pews, pulling himself up and pushing himself forward. He did not gain much ground before faltering again, this time away from the sharp wood. He collapsed onto the floor, landing on his left side. He used his arm to protect his head from damage.

The frigid ground pierced his skin even through the clothes. His vision clouded. His drained body laxed, unable to move anymore. He would fall unconscious, and someone would discover him. Or, maybe a short rest would revitalize him.

His breathing slowed. He could not keep his eyes open any longer. A five-minute nap was all he needed, he convinced himself, surrendering to darkness . . .

Author Note : normally I don't like the 'if it can be resolved by calmly discussing it, it's not really a plot', but it's kind of Dimitri's broken character right now to assume the worst of everyone and fear betrayal. I thought it would be more absurd and against his character to listen to Byleth with an emotional sting like that.

Also, in my Part 1 story, I intend to have the first romantic encounters in month 12, during the Heron Ball. Dimitri's birthday is a few days after the Goddess Tower scene, which I felt wonderful placement.

I wanted to clarify since month 12 is a long ways away from where I'm at currently, unless I make it it's own separate entity. Which I may.


	3. Raw

Raw

Before he realized it, Dimitri propelled himself to just outside the knight's hall, purely driven by rage. The trust he put in the professor broke in a way that he never thought could and it left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Lies. All lies. When would they end?

The final bell struck a familiar tune, but something about it rang hollow, reverberating in a soulless tune.

Could he heed to the professor's explanation? Five years . . . He thought the empire's army killed him during the evacuation of Garreg Mach . . . But he survived that. Where did he go? And why did he return?

Maybe isolation wasn't as appealing as the professor hoped it would be. Maybe guilt weighed him down. Or maybe he was telling the truth? Injuries prevented him from returning or something similar.

Either way, hatred consumed Dimitri, if only fleetingly. He hated being used. He hated being lied to. He hated that he could simply be just a plaything for the professor. Had he seriously misjudged the professor's intentions all this time?

He found himself staring down familiar stairs. The graveyard. He spent too much time here the last few days. He visited Rodrigue briefly, wishing things ended differently. The ground was still freshly dug, the brown mound was easy to spot because of it.

That girl. Her hatred. Her eyes. Her brother. Everyone perished in some miserable manner these days.

"What do I do now?" He questioned the grave, although knew Rodrigue could not answer. He probably could not hear it, regardless.

He found the professor's parents' plot, a previous curiosity overcoming him. Araleth's name was faded from the stone, but 'Jeralt Eisner' was clear as day.

'Eisner' – the name was accessible all this time, but by the time Dimitri could figure it out, he was too preoccupied with the 'Flame Emperor' and her allies to care. Maybe he could have learned the truth sooner.

He looked at the names of the surrounding plots but did not see the infant son. A burial urn, perhaps? There would not be much in the way of remains for someone so small and . . . and burned.

The files did not say where Byleth was buried, but surely it would be near his parents? Especially given how close in time those deaths were. Why was he nowhere near his mother – and now father?

Was his name on the stone and faded from weather? Dimitri inspected it closer; even though 'Araleth Eisner' was illegible, the indentation was still there. There was nothing between her and Jeralt.

'Seteth might know,' He thought.

Was there any point in caring now? He could not stand the thought of being abandoned by the professor. He never thought of that possibility before tonight. He planned to leave? When? Why? Maybe it was time to steal that journal after all . . . Get the perspective from Jeralt, the source of this extravagant plan.

He heard someone humming and found the source from a woman in an off-white dress. She held a bouquet of ivory flowers in the hands, pressed deeply into her stomach. Her skin was paler than her dress and shimmered with a mystical glow. She had waist-length blue hair that curled toward the ends and darker blue eyes that met Dimitri's unshyly.

"No one visits the cemeteries at night," She said unsolicited, "Too many of the residents are afraid of ghosts. Woooo!"

"And you aren't?" Dimitri didn't know why he entertained her, although her face did have a resemblance to the professor's.

"Nope," She stood before the gravesite of the Eisner couple, alongside Dimitri. A chill ran down his spine.

"Not a believer in the paranormal then?" Dimitri asked.

"Just the opposite. I have no fear of them. You?"

Dimitri shook his head, "I've seen enough ghosts . . ."

"Ghosts can be terrifying. But only if you let them be. Hmm. I wonder why they never fixed her name. it is sad to be erased from history like that."

"Did you know her?"

"One could say that, I suppose. So much has changed since she walked these grounds. For so long, she was a forgotten entity. Living on only in her husband's memory. And now he rests here as well."

"You seem to know a lot about that . . . And her son? Byleth?"

"What about the child concerns you so?" She placed the flowers at the base of the tombstone and pulled a single lily from the bunch. It had a vibrant blue streak through the center, lining each of the six petals.

"I just . . . It's not exactly what I expected to learn. I want to know the professor. And I'm afraid of what that actually means." Why was he saying all of this?

"Staring at markers for the dead will not help you. Listen to him," She tore off a petal and let it fly in the breeze.

"I'm sorry, who are you again? I don't think I caught your name."

"There is more to a person than just their name," She twirled the flower and picked off the opposite end. Dimitri frowned and said nothing. It was almost as if . . .

"I know what you're fretting over, dear. You're overthinking it," another petal soared passed Dimitri.

"Were you eavesdropping on us earlier? This is none of your business."

Foreboding clouds gathered above. That night would bring another bout of rain.

"Ah. Perhaps not. But I will continue to do so."

"I don't know who you are, but I suggest you back off."

She plucked another from the lily. It was almost bald now, with two solitary petals at opposing ends.

"I will not. No one is safe in the dead of night."

She dropped the lily, leaving only those last petals intact. Her eerie words gave him a bitter reminder of the dream he had. The picture of an impaled professor became the forefront of his mind's eye.

"You will be the death of me." The final message from the specter.

The professor. Dimitri left him there, in the cathedral. Did the professor wait for him to return?

He was about to excuse himself from the woman, but she disappeared. The flowers she left had also mysteriously vanished. Maybe she was simply another figment of his fractured mind, but he could not waste time with that – he hurried back, cursing himself for leaving in the first place.

His fingers turned numb and the prickling sensation jarred him awake. Stone greeted him and he breathed in the air bouncing from the freezing floor. Byleth coughed violently, chest and throat scorching – how long did he sleep?

Pins and needles shot through every surface area of his skin, exposed or not. He pushed off the ground to his hands and knees. Another shockwave lashed out from his side. He grabbed it as a reflex and a cold wetness seeped through.

He crawled forward, counting the aisles of benches to the back; where he and Dimitri sat at the concert. Would he return? Byleth needed him to, even if he came back to yell some more. He had every right to be angry; but, leaving Byleth behind was a dangerous plight.

He could barely force himself to slither to one row. He grasped the bench once more and attempted to stand, gasping for air at such a mundane task.

The final bell rang, masking all other sounds. Even so, he sensed someone from behind. Before he could prepare, that someone came rushing in and drove a knife in his uninjured side. Now he had a matching set.

"Ugh!" Byleth yelled. He twisted his body and held out his open palm, shooting a fireball into his assailant's face.

Byleth pulled the knife out and slashed his enemy's throat while he was recoiling. The unidentified body sank, pooling blood around it.

"Damn it," Byleth grunted at his new wound and managed to straighten himself out. He took a moment to cut his caplet and wrap it around the new site, pressing on it. He sprinted to the door, adrenaline now pumping, and hurried past the gate.

An unseen archer volleyed him from above the gate. An arrow burrowed into his back, between his shoulder blades and he dropped the knife as a result. Fresh, warm blood oozed out his back. The arrowhead fastened itself between muscle and bones, so it did not drill all the way through.

Byleth located the archer in a balcony before a grand stained glass window and summoned a circle above his head; thunder poured from the center and struck the archer. He was unsure if it killed him, so he conjured another bolt.

He could not remove the arrow or mend that wound on his own, so he limped forward with each new wound stinging and zapping relentlessly.

At the end of the bridge, Byleth saw a soldier with a lance who wore the polished white armor of the monastery. He doubted its authenticity and could not afford to be wrong by lowering his guard.

"I have a report for you," Byleth called out with raspy voice from the halfway point, "Trespassers in the cathedral."

"You're in bad shape," The soldier said. Byleth stopped moving. He stood at a disadvantageous spot and felt the whip of the wind lashing against him. "We need to get you to the infirmary."

Byleth looked over his shoulder – his eye twitched at spiking jolts – to determine the threat level.

"Where is the rest of the patrol?" Byleth questioned, "There should be more men."

"I don't know. That's a good question."

'Stay awake,' he commanded himself.

The soldier advanced, saying something garbled by Byleth's failing senses. He was slipping, he knew that much, and prepared himself for any possibility.

'Dimitri,' he searched for any signs of him, 'I really need you right now.'

His panting slowed down, but he drew in long and heavy breaths in exchange. His shoulders, neck, head, and eyelids weighed down on him, and his body threatened to keel. Bright red frostbite colored his hands and face.

Storm clouds gathered overhead, he noticed and squinted irritably at it, "More rain."

He cupped the knife on his belt, assessing the immediate need of unsheathing the weapon – one of the few tools he currently possessed other than magic.

Booming footsteps rushed at him from the cathedral entrance and Byleth adjusted to identify the source, momentarily removing his attention from the soldier.

The new foe, a heavyset aggressor, raised an axe above his head and threw his weight into the downward strike. Byleth evaded by jumping backwards. The axe's blade wedged into the nearby parapet and the man struggled to reclaim it.

A last-minute realization gripped him, and as he feared, the soldier lunged the lance for a back attack. He narrowly avoided it by lifting his arm and twirling his body away in a subsequent leap. Mid rotation, Byleth used the vampire light spell of Nosferatu to both stagger the falsified ally and replenish his strength.

As he landed, the axe man evidently forfeited his attempt at retrieving the axe and punched Byleth in the jaw. His neck cracked deafeningly, and his body forcefully spun around.

Byleth fell forward and caught himself at the opening between two of the parapets, one hand on each stone slab, staring at the rushing stream and the sharp rock bed beneath him. The pain from his three existing cuts ripped through him and he shrieked involuntarily – the howling wind wailed from all directions, carrying his cry.

He pushed himself back up, regardless, and attempted to discern the other two's placement. If they knocked him off the bridge, he would not survive. His chances were slimming either way.

He saw the lance coming at him again and protected his body by sacrificing his left arm. The edge shredded him from his wrist to his elbow – in a counter measure, Byleth retrieved his personal dagger, rushed at the soldier, and drove the it into the only exposed area – between the eyes.

Another scream filled the still night. Someone was sure to have noticed the skirmish by now. Even if they did, the other burly man already pincered Byleth and threw him back first into the stone.

As his back hit the stone, he felt the arrow push deeper in. A chill came over him, but it was different than a normal one. This wasn't cold necessarily, but it rippled from the site and spiraled through his body. Paresthesia formed in each limb and it struck his head.

He knew it then. His chances fell to zero.

Byleth took in one sharp breath and held it. He watched the man wriggle the axe from the stone and raise it. He came to end Byleth.

'Move.'

His eyes locked on the jagged edge of the axe head.

'. . .Move.'

His numb hands would not budge.

'. . .Pulse . . .'

The world shattered at Byleth's command. He exhausted his divine magic at Gronder, so time resumed. Each second ticked toward his demise. Out of ideas and unable to move, Byleth closed his eyes in resignation.

'Dimitri. I am so sorry.'

A rush of something blew passed. Nothing hit him and confusion took hold. He opened his eyes and saw something blue. He couldn't make out what it was, but it looked soft.

"S. . .S," His head slumped. His airway closed, pinched off. He nearly lost consciousness.

'I can't breathe.'

Someone grabbed at him. Reflexively, his right arm flailed to fend off the attacker. Whoever it was caught the hand and held it to a cold chest plate.

"It's me," He said in an anguish of its own.

'Who?'

The unknown man gently placed Byleth's hand down and slid his arm around his back. He lifted Byleth up and a searing agony exploded in his body. Byleth writhed and wailed; it was an otherworldly sound that echoed endlessly back at them.

"I have to move you, professor," The man's voice shook. They traveled to a destination unknown. Byleth still could not draw in air properly. He gasped excessively to regulate but hyperventilated instead. His throat clicked at each failed attempt to bring in oxygen.

"Professor!? Hold on just a little longer."

Every muscle began to spasm at random. Whoever held him cradled him closer.

'It's so cold.'

His lungs seized. He stopped trying, feeling a pull in every possible direction. His chest jolted. And again. Then everything released.

"Help him!" Dimitri yelled in the infirmary, full blown panic setting in. He set the professor's body on the bed, unsure what the collective damage entailed. Manuela, who had readied herself for bed, snapped back awake and attempted a heal. She screamed for more aid.

The professor's skin was blue under all the blood. She grabbed the professor's wrist. Then his neck. And finally his heart.

"What are you doing?" Dimitri bellowed, "Hurry up and heal him!"

"No," She mouthed.

"There's no time to wait!"

"There's nothing I can do –"

"Stop talking and –"

"He's already gone!" She screeched.

"Gone?" Dimitri repeated, unable to fathom it, "He can't be gone."

"I'm so sorry," She huffed, restraining her own emotions, "There's nothing that can be done."

"You didn't even _try_!"

"My spell bounced off of him. In order for it to work, he has to be alive. He's –"

"STOP! Stop it, stop it, stop it! He's not . . . he can't . . ." Dimitri seized his head, pulling fistfuls of hair.

Manuela closed her eyes tight and exhaled, then she said, "I can try one thing. It probably won't work."

She took off her coat and began chest compressions. Old fashioned CPR.

"One. Two. Three. Four . . ." She counted as she pressed, then at ten she performed mouth to mouth, spurning as her lips touched the professor's cold ones. Dimitri watched in horror.

"What is going on?" Seteth entered the room then stopped at the sight, "What happened?"

Dimitri barely registered the question. This couldn't be happening . . .

Seteth inhaled and assisted Manuela, allowing her focus on breathing into him while he did the compressions.

"Go tell Gilbert what happened," Seteth breathlessly ordered Dimitri, "We need to neutralize the enemy."

"But I," Dimitri's body refused to leave.

"There is nothing more you can do for the professor. I promise we will do all we can. We need to stay a step ahead now."

"No need," Gilbert said, "I heard all the commotion. Your Highness, let's give these two space to work."

"No – he's. I can't."

"You have done what you could. Leave the revival to them." He led the reluctant Dimitri out to the hall, who all but dug his heels into the floorboards. It was a wonder how Gilbert managed enough strength to pull him away. More nurses and priests rushed by to assist.

"Where did this happen?" Gilbert asked. Dimitri sighed heavily and crossed his arms.

"The cathedral bridge."

"Come with me."

"Yes," Dimitri frowned. Being away from the professor gave him a newfound objective, "If any of them still live, I will crush them."

"If any of them yet live, we need to gather information first," Gilbert corrected.

"What would be the point? We know who they are. Imperial spies."

Gilbert sighed, "Please show some restraint. Walk me through what happened."

Dimitri lowered his head. Here he was, afraid the professor planned to abandon him – however, in reality, it was reversed.

"I left him," He confessed, "This is my fault."

"Left him?"

"Yes! Like filthy little cowards that they are, they attacked when he was isolated. Alone. This is my fault. This is all my fault!"

"Please don't blame yourself. Why did you separate?"

"I was mad at him. That's all. If I could go back and change it, I would. I can't. I just can't. if he dies because of this, it will be on my head."

"You need to compose yourself. It sounds like you were not aware of any dangers."

"It doesn't matter. I should have known. There is always danger."

"What's done is done – all we can do now is move forward."

"Without him? Is that even a possibility?"

"If you wish to save your kingdom, it is. If you wish to aid Seteth and the knights of Serios in saving Lady Rhea, it is. Steel yourself, Your Highness."

"Oh, I'll steel myself alright," He said threateningly. Gilbert recognized his descent. He prayed that the professor revived and quelled Dimitri's inner demons.

As Gilbert passed familiar faces, he sent summons to the more trusted members of the inner council and gave orders for them to meet at the infirmary and then the bridge. At the moment, he wanted to contain hysteria to a minimum.

"You really think anymore would show their faces?" Dimitri scoffed, "One of them wore monetary armor. We can't trust anyone."

"They've been doing well at blending in. As it stands, there is no good way of determining spy versus ally."

Dimitri muttered something unintelligible under his breath – not even he really knew what he said. It all started to blur together.

They were at the bridge and counted two bodies and two weapons. A soldier with a dagger through his head and the other a man with his body snapped backwards – his hands touched his heels with his chest unnaturally puffed out.

Dimitri heard the professor's final scream in his head. It roared so deafeningly and repeated in his eardrums endlessly.

Something in him laughed. It was a low rumble at first, as if he found something mildly amusing. Then it grew louder and more cynical.

"Your highness?" Gilbert was sent on edge by this unusual behavior.

"Oh, it's nothing," Dimitri quickly frowned, "I only just now realized something."

"And what would that be?"

"Just focus on your task."

Gilbert sighed heavily. None of this was good. He examined the soldier with the knife protruding from his forehead and said, "This knife is . . ."

"The one the professor keeps at his hip."

"And him?" Gilbert pointed at the warped man.

"My doing."

Gilbert shuddered at the brutality but said nothing. They continued in silence. Splotches of blood trailed out from halfway across the bridge, marking the spot where Dimitri picked up the professor. He was so focused on protecting the professor, Dimitri blacked out on how he killed the axeman.

Everything else, however, scorched itself into his memory. The raised axe. The incapacitated professor. The fear of losing yet another beloved person. And how the professor could not identify Dimitri, so he tried to fend him off. Down to the last, he would claw and scratch to preserve his own life.

The professor made such unnatural noises that Dimitri knew it was the end. He felt it in his gut. The professor passed in Dimitri's arms, but he could not acknowledge the truth just then. To add the final insult, Dimitri also doubted that the professor ever recognized him. He was too far gone by then.

He died thinking Dimitri was an enemy.

They stumbled on another dagger that caught Gilbert's attention. It was silver with black swirls on the hilt and down the twisted blade. Gilbert picked it up and marveled at the unusual shape, "It probably belongs to one of them."

"So, you found a clue after all. It would be rude to keep it all to ourselves. Why don't we return it?"

Gilbert did not have a fitting response to that. They continued in silence until Gilbert asked, "Where is the night patrol? I need to get a schedule on who was supposed to be here."

"Hmph."

"Did you see any when you left the first time?"

"I wasn't paying attention."

"It's safe to assume that they've placed themselves within the monetary guard. We've known this, however, for quite some time. They must have added to their own ranks despite our efforts to expose them."

"Tell me, Gilbert," Dimitri crossed his arms, "How do we trust anyone in this operation? We can never truly tell what anyone is thinking or what their true objectives are. Even you and I had doubts about the . . . the professor."

"I don't know. Hmm. Does the reason you were upset with him have anything to do with that doubt?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Humor me a moment. Did you learn something?"

"Just drop it! None of it matters anymore!"

"Maybe it doesn't," he conceded, "But it might help ease your mind to talk about it."

"I should have minded my own damn business. If I never pushed for an explanation, we would have had a nice night and walked back together. He was tired. I should have known. He owed me nothing."

"So, I was correct in my assumption . . ."

"Yes. You were. What he told me upset me. But it shouldn't have. I made it about me when it should have been about him. Now look where I'm at. Back where I started."

"What did he tell you?"

"Ask Seteth," Dimitri scouted on ahead. He really hoped to find an enemy soon so he could properly vent his frustration. He already went through this loss once – this time, however, would be even worse.

Inside the cathedral, Dimitri found the professor's first kill. When Gilbert joined him, he knelt beside the body and examined the kill wound. He matched it to the blade they picked up and said, "Interesting. The professor must have taken this blade from him. The wound has a curve to it that matches this."

"_Good_," He said.

"It looks like you were right. They hoped to ambush him when he had no reinforcements. Unfortunately, we may not have enough to learn more about who 'they' are."

They returned to the bridge, where Seteth and the members of the Blue Lions, minus Mercedes and Annette, met them.

"Dimitri," Ingrid made a sorrowful face, "I am so sorry."

"What happened?" Sylvain asked.

"Is there still a threat?" Felix followed up.

Gilbert answered, "We are still in the middle of investigating. Three enemies dead. No sign of anyone else, either."

"Seteth," Dimitri asked, ". . . Is he . . .?"

Seteth exhaled, "We could not revive him. I am sorry to report that your professor is . . . is dead."

"How did this happen?" Ashe shuddered.

"Tch," Felix shook his head, "I'm going to look for more intruders."

"We'll go together," Sylvain nodded, "We gotta stay together right now."

"Agreed," Ingrid said and Ashe nodded. The four of them went on ahead, while Dedue stayed with Dimitri.

"How are you?" He asked, even though he knew what to expect. Dimitri just shook his head and looked off into the distance.

"Gilbert. Your Highness," Seteth said, "I know this is probably not what you want to hear at this time, but it will become relevant soon. About the professor's identity and the secrets that come with that."

"What does it matter?" Dimitri asked.

"It matters. I know that Archbishop wanted him to be buried in the Holy Tomb in the event of his death. His bloodline is . . . well, he is kin to Rhea."

"What?" This caught Dimitri's attention.

"He was likely targeted because of that. They may come back and try to steal his body. We cannot allow that happen, under any circumstances."

"They would . . . steal his body?" Dimitri flummoxed.

"To learn about the Crest of Flames and the power that comes with it. Yes. If you don't want him to be defiled any further, then you need to listen to me. I know this is hard, but if you ever really cared about him, you will do this one final act. We must take his body to the Holy Tomb and seal it off until we find the Archbishop."

"Yes," Dimitri said, "I don't want them anywhere near him."

"Good. Yes. We should move him as soon as we can."

Gilbert frowned, "And what will you tell the monastery?"

"I propose we carry out a closed casket ceremony so they can mourn and pay their respects. Only a handful of us should know the true resting place for the professor."

"And will his false tomb read as, 'here lies the beloved professor?'" Gilbert crossed his arms.

Seteth sighed, "No. You said you both looked into the Eisner family? You know of Araleth and Byleth?"

"Yes. We do," Gilbert nodded.

"The baby thought to have died in the fire survived. That child grew up and became your professor. The professor is Byleth Eisner."

"Excuse me?" Gilbert demanded, "Why?"

"It all stems back to Jeralt's decision to flee the monastery. He felt this place endangered his son, so he took the infant and ran. As for the details behind that rationale, you would have to talk to the Archbishop to know the full story. She was the only one present at Byleth's birth."

"This story becomes more and more troubling," Gilbert's stern face grimaced further.

"No wonder he couldn't find the right way to explain it," Dimitri turned away from everyone, "A mountain of lies."

"Finding the exact truth became both of our goals. However, both the Archbishop and Jeralt gave him a number a false and conflicting stories, that he could not possibly understand his own life."

"But you don't have all the answers?" Gilbert pushed.

"No. I don't. I have a partial understanding. The Archbishop kept her secrets with her – Jeralt, at least, wrote his down and left them for the professor. For Byleth."

"He told me about that journal," Dimitri confirmed disinterestedly.

"It won't have everything – Jeralt didn't know everything. It is one perspective, but if Byleth told you the journal existed, he would not have minded you reading it."

"That's what he said," Dimitri remained impassive.

"I have no objections, if that was a wish of his. However, I will probably have to hide that journal away at some point. Our enemies already know too much, and I cannot allow sensitive information like that to fall into their hands."

"Go ahead. I've heard enough," Dimitri walked away from them toward the cathedral, with Dedue following behind.

"Gilbert," Seteth inquired, "What is your take on his mental state?"

"Troubling. I will keep an eye on him."

Seteth shook his head, "Things just took a turn for the worst; however, we must carry on."

"That's an understatement . . . What will you do?"

"With the students searching the cathedral and the infirmary still busy, I doubt that they would be so brazen to attempt a body snatching. I may retrieve that journal."

"Allow me to join you. I would like to read Jeralt's thoughts."

"To be honest, I am not so sure that I am comfortable with that. It contains some of his perceptions on Lady Rhea that I am sure you may find distasteful."

"So, you mean to still withhold information?"

"We can discuss it along the way. Let's allow the children time to grieve together."

"Hey!" Felix said with intensified irritation, "So, what did happen?"

"We were told to meet at the second floor," Ingrid explained, "When all of us gathered, we were told about the attack. Seteth said you were the one who brought the professor in."

"Funny," Felix continued, "You don't have a scratch on you. Something smells. Well?"

"Enough," Dedue stood between Felix and Dimitri, "We are all upset by what happened. There is no need to start throwing accusations."

"I want to agree," Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck, "But Mercedes and Annette said that you two were together all evening. Felix is right, though – you don't look like you were in a fight."

"We shouldn't be arguing," Ashe said, "What if there's someone still here?"

"Hmph, we'll get the truth one way or another," Felix promised.

"You're right. For the most part, I wasn't in that fight. Not until the end."

"Oh? Care to explain yourself?" Felix asked.

"We got into an argument and I left. You are absolutely right – does that make you happy? Are you satisfied with that answer?"

"Not in the slightest. You 'got into an argument'? What, he hurt your fragile little ego so you left him to die. Makes sense," Felix scoffed.

"I didn't know there were spies," The argument sounded weak, even to Dimitri. What else could he say?

"There are always spies, you dolt!" Felix shouted, "How the hell did you of all people forget that!? You are incredibly selfish, do you know that? This whole thing could have been avoided if you weren't so stuck up your own ass!"

"Felix," Ingrid reached to calm him.

"No! I am down sugar coating the truth. One day and he already monumentally screws up. You never leave someone by themselves. Do you know what separates this place from the rest of us? A long bridge – not exactly a great place to be boxed in."

Dimitri gave him a dead expression. He knew Felix was right and that there was no defense to what he did. He was emotional and let his logical side suffocating in the dark.

"Has anyone bothered to tell you about Gronder yet? Oh, I bet we were all falling over ourselves to not mention that."

"Okay, c'mon. Let that one be," Sylvain even wanted Felix to calm down.

"No. I won't. Who here knows about the spear? We were all on the same field – we all saw it happen."

"That's enough," Dedue warned.

"No. Let him speak," Dimitri ordered.

"You take one look at Edelgard and you just rush toward her, not caring about anything around you. You distracted him. You caused him to stop paying attention to the approaching alliance. He got impaled watching you run away from the rest of us. This. Was. All. You."

"Okay, you've had your say," Sylvain sighed, "there's nothing any of us can do about it now."

"What was the argument about?" Felix questioned, "What was so important that you just had to go?"

More tension grew each second Dimitri did not respond. It all seemed so stupid now, but Felix and the others deserved to know . . .

"I learned that he had plans to leave Fódlan and meant to never be found again."

"Awesome," Felix commented, "Right. Leaving Fódlan doesn't sound like a half bad idea."

He pushed passed Dedue and Dimitri, purposefully slamming into the prince. Sylvain shook his head, "You know, he just kind of disproved himself. What do we do when we're angry? We tend to walk away. I'm going to go make sure he doesn't do anything rash – for what it's worth, Dimitri, learning someone might leave without a trace is worth getting upset over."

Sylvain left the cathedral as well, leaving Dedue, Dimitri, Ashe, and Ingrid.

"That's so strange," Ingrid folded her arms, "That doesn't sound like something the professor would do. Is there any context to that?"

"It . . . it sounded more like his father's idea," Dimitri remembered.

"They were very close," Ashe nodded, "If it was back when his father still lived, I could see them agreeing to something like that. They were accustomed to a life of travel and maybe wanted to journey beyond the borders?"

"He was a fill-in professor," Ingrid added, "Maybe neither of them planned to stick around for an additional year?"

"That could be," Ashe agreed, but Dimitri did not feel much comfort in what they were saying.

"Still," Ingrid continued, "There's been many times where I have stepped away due to disagreements. Sylvain is right about that."

"Hmm," Dimitri grunted.

"I think we should discuss this another time," Dedue noticed the withdrawal on Dimitri's face.

"You two should head on back," Dimitri showed a hint of his compassionate side, but overall remained flat, "It's possible there are still infiltrators, but they won't show themselves until we're vulnerable."

"And what about you?" Ashe asked.

"I hope they try to attack me – I would very much like it if they tried."

"Easy," Ingrid shook her head, "I know it's hard, but you can't lose yourself again."

"I will do what I can."

"We will stay with you and carry that emotional burden," Ingrid smiled, hoping to encourage, "You are not in this alone."

"This is not the life I ever wanted," Dimitri expressed, but moved away from that notion, "You should pay your respects soon. I doubt there will be much more time before he becomes just another grave."

Ashe and Ingrid paused uncertain what to do next.

"Go," Dimitri said more forcefully.

"We should go with them," Dedue suggested, "Pay our respects and then try to rest."

"Oh Dedue," Dimitri said with mock glee, "I will never sleep again."

He heard the scream throughout the entire conversation. He doubted the scream would ever stop. He could only imagine what closing his eye would do.

"You will sleep. You have to," Dedue countered, but Dimitri ignored him and ushered them all away. In the opening between the gate and the chapel, Dimitri stopped Dedue to talk to him. The other two left the cathedral, feeling unnerved.

The night's surprises did not end there – Flayn approached the bridge with her ruffled sleeves saturated in blood. In between her fingers, she held with a similarly soaked arrow, still fully intact.

"Flayn?" Ingrid ran up to her with Ashe following behind, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," She seemed in a state of shock, too, "Have you seen brother?"

"Not in a few minutes," Ingrid replied, "Are you hurt?"

"It's not my blood," Her eyes were glossy.

"Then what happened?" Ashe asked gently. Flayn jumped, startled at his voice.

"I'm sorry," He said, "I thought you saw me."

Seteth rushed to Flayn once he and Gilbert returned with Jeralt's journal.

"Flayn? Please, please tell me you're okay!"

"I am fine. Brother, I – " She stammered, giving Gilbert time to catch up. She offered Seteth the arrow in her hand, "This arrow came from the professor. It's what struck him – his heart."

"Flayn, I don't – you dug it out?" Seteth held her hand and took the arrow from her.

"She told me about it," Flayn met Seteth's gaze.

"Who?" Seteth asked, "Manuela? Mercedes?"

"No. I had never seen her before, brother. She whispered to me what to do to make him breathe again."

"So, he is well again?" Seteth prayed for a good answer.

Flayn sniffled, "Once I pulled this arrow out, he began to breathe. But brother, his injuries are . . ." She closed her eyes and failed to suppress tears, "they are worse than mine ever were."

"I thought you were asleep, Flayn. You weren't supposed to see him like this."

"She woke me up and whispered it to me. She told me what to do."

"Where did she go?" Gilbert asked.

"I tried to follow her, but she lost me. The other healers are caring for his heart wound. And it is deep, brother – I – it may have been better if I left him the way he was before."

"Don't say that," Seteth assured her, "You did the right thing. You gave him a chance."

"A chance, yes," She cried, "Or undue misery."

"He is strong. He can manage a little pain," Seteth smiled weakly and hugged Flayn tightly.

"What did she look like?" Gilbert questioned again, trying to identify the mystery woman.

"Long, blue hair. Blue eyes. Like the professor's, before the goddess gifted him power."

"I will see what I can find out. You said you saw her come this way?"

Flayn nodded, "I thought so."

"We never saw anyone with long blue hair," Ashe told Gilbert, "There isn't anything we can do for the professor, but we can find this woman and thank her for the tip."

"Or capture her on suspicious behavior. Ashe. Ingrid. Come with me – let's find our mysterious 'helper'."

Dimitri halted after Ashe and Ingrid left and pulled Dedue to the side. They were safely nestled between the two walls and had eyes on all the entrances in case a follow-up attack occurred.

"Are you still hoping to be attacked?" Dedue asked bluntly.

"If it happens, I will gladly end them. But, no. That's not the point. You heard Seteth. He wants to take the professor's body to the Holy Tomb tonight."

Dedue folded his arms, "I heard. Will you be up for that task?"

"I don't have a choice."

"I think you should rest. You look pale," Dedue said with concern. Dimitri chuckled. Even his laugh sounded off.

"I told you before. I will not sleep tonight. Or the next. Or any of the ones that would follow," There was a strong piercing gaze from his good eye – an edge that only took form once he fell off the precipice.

Dimitri continued, "You know, I hated the professor for those five years. 'He died' – that is the conclusion everyone came to. And I hated him for it. I hated that he couldn't keep his promise, but I knew that one or both of us would break it eventually. That's just how this life is."

"Your Highness . . . These last five years were not kind to you."

Dimitri scoffed, "Still not the point. In those five years, I had to survive on my own. I accepted that he died in Edelgard's invasion. But never once did I dream about him. I think I know why now."

Dedue's forehead creased, identifying where Dimitri's thought process went.

"I never saw him die. I was never responsible for his death. With everything that followed since, I could not linger on it. Even though I've always had strong feelings for him – good or not. When I was mad at him, my anger amplified. More so than what should make sense. But when he smiled or laughed, I never knew such peace existed."

Dedue closed his eyes. He figured as much and struggled to find any comforting words.

"I will keep my promise to him, though," Dimitri clenched his teeth, "I will save my kingdom and help the knights search for the Archbishop. But I don't know that I can do much more. I am just so tired . . ."

"You will find the strength you need to rule the kingdom. There is no one else who is fit for it."

"Hmm," Dimitri forced a smile, "You know, it's funny. I'm used to feeling anger or sorrow or any number of negative emotions. This is the first time I've felt absolutely nothing."

"I think we should return. Even if you think you won't sleep, you need to sit down and get something to drink. Your Highness, please understand that none of this is your fault."

"Don't lie to me. I might as well have killed him myself. I left him to the wolves."

Dimitri left the area and walked along the bridge. Seteth cradled a despondent Flayn, who had her own clothes drenched in blood.

"What happened?" Dimitri asked.

"Oh, you're still here," Seteth stood up and helped Flayn to her feet, "You just missed them. Gilbert, Ashe, and Ingrid all went in search of a woman."

"What woman?"

"Flayn says she helped identify a way to revive Byleth. There isn't a healer in our ranks that matches her description, though, and Gilbert found it suspicious. She had long blue hair and blue eyes, though none of us saw her pass this way."

"Then he's alive?" Dimitri asked, but the description of the woman matched the strange eavesdropper from the graveyard, "Blue hair and eyes?"

"Barely alive," Seteth corrected, "It's too soon to know if he can be saved, but Flayn said he drew breath. Whatever happens now is the will of the Goddess."

Dimitri felt his own heart beating rapidly. A betraying feeling of hope basked over him and he prayed to her that Byleth's life would be spared.

"I will go search, too," Dimitri said, "Excuse me. Dedue, help Seteth take Flayn somewhere safe."

"Alright," Dedue said, ". . . You aren't going to visit the professor?"

"I'd just get in the way," He said, sprinting to the graveyard. He had a feeling he would find the 'mysterious woman' there.


	4. Melodic Whispers

Cross-posted to AO3 as well : /works/21513139/chapters/51277537

Melodic Whispers

Standing at the base of the stairs, Dimitri heard a soft humming near the Eisner plot. He approached her, saying, "I knew that I would find you here."

"Did you now?" The blue-haired woman chuckled while crafting a crown out of flowers, "How ever could you have known?"

Dimitri was hardly in the mood for games, "You told Flayn how to revive the profess – Byleth. How did you know what would work?"

She started shredding the crown and turned to talk to him, "So now you know his name . . ."

"Something tells me you knew it all along. But I'm more curious about what you told Flayn."

"There wasn't much to tell. I witnessed the attack. I knew that his mortality clung to that arrow."

Dimitri shook his head, "You were talking to me when it happened. If I didn't make it in time, you sure didn't – unless you claim to be in multiple places at once. So cut the act and tell me what you know."

"I'm afraid that's all I can tell you."

"I doubt that."

"You should go to Byleth."

"I plan on it. You should come with me," Dimitri extended his hand.

"Probably best that I don't," she adamantly refused.

"A knight and a few of my friends are looking for you."

"They mean to question me, yes. I don't believe that's a good idea."

Dimitri crossed his arms, "You have to admit that there's good reason for suspicion. You play the part of an innocent well-meaning woman exceptionally, but you just seem to know too much."

"Since when is having knowledge a sin?" She contested, "I simply wanted to allow those who could defy destiny a chance to intervene. Whether fate has changed or not will be determined soon."

"Who are you?" Dimitri asked.

"I am your ally. I do not want the child, Byleth, to die. Go to him. And after, sleep. You will need it."

"Sleep is an impossibility."

She dropped the tattered crown and clenched a fistful of its shavings. "I already know about your insomnia and your inner demons," she blew the fragments of buds into Dimitri's face as he took a breath. He snorted and coughed instantly, inhaling the bulk of it.

He grunted at her as he cleared his throat, "What was that for?"

But his words echoed back in the empty space. The woman had already vanished along with the shorn flower crown. Who was she? Where did she go? How did she keep slipping away without a trace?

After Dimitri sneezed away the last of the invasion, he felt a sapping of his energy. He yawned despite the circumstances and physically desired nothing but sleep.

'Professor,' he thought while his body lagged. He hurried back as fast as his burdensome body would permit.

A roaring crash alarmed Dimitri, causing his heart to jump. Dark clouds rolled in, covering the moon and stars, leaving only flickers of lightening to guide Dimitri's path.

'Right. Rain.' He remembered.

Thick drops assaulted him just as quickly as the warning blitz. He took shelter in the knight's hall and sat on the couch by the fireplace, drying off what little rain managed to tag him.

It pattered on the roof steadily and an encroaching breath of tamed thunder accompanied it. It whined at a low vibration that gradually built momentum, taking its time to culminate. The fire crackled happily alongside the weather, lulling Dimitri into a false sense of security.

'I have to see him first,' he reminded himself, trying to keep his eye open, 'I have to – "

For some reason, Dimitri stood on the bridge where he found the professor – found Byleth. Balking over the location, he looked out to the horizons to ease his mind. The stony riverbed and the monetary structures framed a strangely clear starry sky.

"I never thought about the view here much. Can't say I care for it, considering," Byleth said, standing next to Dimitri.

"Professor?" Dimitri stepped back away from him questioningly, "How are you here?"

"I'm not sure."

Dimitri looked him over, feeling his skin rumple with goosebumps, "Am I dreaming again?"

Byleth nodded, "That's as far as I can figure."

Dimitri knew better than to trust apparitions, "What happens now?"

"I've been thinking about that. I honestly don't think I have much time left."

"Until what?" Dimitri asked, feeling a knot swell in his gut.

"Until I either fall unconscious indefinitely. Or die," He explained bluntly, "Probably a mixture of the two."

Dimitri, unable to process what was happening, examined the professor closer. He could not see anything wrong with whom he spoke. The antagonistic nature of the nightmare shade had yet to creep forth from this Byleth, though Dimitri hesitated to accept him as real. The professor appeared seemingly fine and without injury, which did little to appease Dimitri's skepticism.

"I swear, if you're just another ghost here to taunt me," Dimitri bitterly trailed off.

Byleth leaned forward on the parapet, arms overlapping on the stone, and gazed outward, "If I were a ghost, don't you think I'd have better things to do than haunt you?"

"You're saying you're not a ghost?"

"Not yet, at least. Give it about ten more minutes."

Dimitri winced, "You're incredibly calm for someone supposedly facing death . . . though that's actually the most credible part about whatever this is."

Byleth laughed, "What do you think I am, exactly?"

After a few moments of cautious deliberation, Dimitri admitted, "A hallucination."

"So, are you in my head or am I in yours?" Byleth joked.

"Please don't," Dimitri pleaded as his sanity began to collapse.

"Sorry," Byleth stood tall then sat on the ledge, facing Dimitri with softening eyes, "I'll behave."

Part of Dimitri started to acknowledge Byleth as an actuality but struggled with what that meant. Byleth looked at him with the same peaceful adoration as earlier, before they fought and before he was attacked. There was a chance that this Byleth was genuine. This might have been the last chance he had to speak with the professor.

"This is my fault," Dimitri dropped his guard.

"No. It's not."

"I left you," Dimitri recoiled, "And I can never take that back. Do you know how that feels?"

"How many times have I found someone praying alone? More often than I would like – but before tonight, that area was safe. As unfortunate as this night has played out, you have to let go and move on. The ones responsible are probably still be lurking around."

"I can't! Even if I wanted to let go or move on, I can't just silence it. I'll see your body picked over by the vultures until it drives me mad! I will hear you screaming, waking or sleeping. I can't escape it! . . . So, if you die tonight, then I will too."

"No. You will not. You will continue to live."

"Only if you do," Dimitri went emotionless. Calm. The clock was ticking and Byleth feared Dimitri would do something stupid if he couldn't convince him otherwise.

Byleth hopped from his low perch and opened his arms, "Come here."

Dimitri looked at the professor, to his outstretched arms and felt his face pulling down. Byleth worried he might start crying.

"Why?" Dimitri simply asked, though the single word weighed with multiple meanings. 'Why are you asking for a hug?'; 'Why are you willing to comfort me?'; 'Why do you still want anything to do with me?'; 'Why don't you hate me?'; But that single word was all Dimitri could muster.

"Just come here," Byleth beckoned. Dimitri gave in – in truth, he wanted it more than he felt he deserved – and wrapped his own arms around Byleth. He laid his chin on Byleth's head and relaxed as the professor embraced him.

"I'll be disappointed if you try to follow me into death." Byleth said, "I need you to remember everyone else who is relying on you. I will be okay." Dimitri did not answer, but Byleth knew he listened. Dimitri squeezed him harder, afraid to let go.

"I am not the one you need to worry about," Byleth reiterated, "Try to find happiness. You have friends who want you to succeed."

Dimitri's stomach turned uneasily in effect to rising emotions. The pressure built up in his restless heart, swallowing his voice. He could not give a proper response.

A cool breeze nipped at them while Byleth considered his next words carefully. Words alone could not correct this – but the wrong ones could throw everything Dimitri achieved into ruin.

"I have no intention on dying without a fight. Like before, it might take some time for my wounds to completely heal. I need you to stay strong if that happens."

"Like before?" Dimitri questioned with a cracked voice. He pushed back from Byleth and looked at him.

Byleth nodded, "Yes. Five years, give or take. I don't want it to take that long this time around."

Dimitri's face contorted. A crucial piece of information came into place, but with it more questions, "I thought Gilbert said your whereabouts were unknown for five years."

"Is that what he told you?" Byleth seemed surprised, "I thought I explained what happened . . . perhaps he didn't believe me, after all."

"Why didn't he just say that?" Dimitri's anger flared a moment, "What happened in those five years you were gone?"

"Nothing," Byleth looked away, "I was unconscious during all of it."

". . . Unconscious . . ."

"Maybe dead. I'm not sure. I remember falling and hitting my head on some rocks. I woke up, drenched, on the riverbed just outside the town."

"Unbelievable," Dimitri scowled.

"It does seem unlikely," Byleth outwardly regretted, "I wish I could have been there for you. I am sorry. I don't want to lose any more years, but I'm not sure I have a choice now, either."

"No, you misunderstand. Even if he did not believe you, he should at least have told me your account of things. I should have been given the chance to determine whether or not _I _believe you."

". . .And?"

"I do," Dimitri smiled weakly, "But you're right. Five years without you was rough. I don't want to imagine what the rest of my life would be like. Let alone live it."

"I am not sure what I can do. I am somewhat aware of my injuries and know at least two of them alone would be life ending."

Dimitri grimaced, recalling the endless blood.

"Now, I also know that, unlike last time, I have the help of the infirmary. I just need enough energy to recharge. It may be enough."

"What are you planning?"

"If I can," Byleth stepped back and opened his palm to the open space before him. A golden circle appeared before them. Patterns and words encapsulated it, but none that Dimitri had ever seen before.

"What is that?" Dimitri asked. It was divine in nature, he recognized that much.

"Ugh," The professor closed his eyes and the circle began to shimmer in and out of existence. "It's the pulse I need to survive. But it's weak. I am weak. I am not strong enough to maintain it."

Byleth allowed the circle to dispel. Dimitri still didn't know what it was or how Byleth planned to use it, "Is it a healing spell? Will you will die without it?"

"Not necessarily, no. I was hoping for . . . Anyway, I have no choice but to try. Or, maybe I am meant to let fate take its course. Perhaps it is destiny that marks this night."

"Wait, no! Don't say that!" Dimitri blurted out, "If you have a way to live, then you must do it!"

"Even if I successfully manage it, I'm afraid it would not change much. Especially if I can't . . . hmm." Byleth fumbled on how to explain the Divine Pulse. "Let me put some more thought into this. I only have a few options and none of them guarantee the results we're looking for."

"Can you explain what your plan is? Maybe I can help," Dimitri suggested. Byleth avoided telling anyone about the Goddess' power, for fear of what that knowledge might bring. Still, he wanted to open up to someone about it – maybe Dimitri could handle it.

"Suppose I am successful in turning back the hands of time. What then? This will play out the exact same way."

"Turn back the hands of – is that what that is?"

". . . Yes."

Again, Dimitri was perplexed by how many questions sprung to mind. The first one he asked, however, was, "Could you have saved Rodrigue?"

Byleth figured Dimitri might asked that. He answered, "No. I overused my abilities in Gronder. I haven't been able to summon it since. It will too late to turn back now for Rodrigue, unfortunately. I can normally do a few hours. As I am now, probably an hour at most."

"An hour," Dimitri contemplated it, seemingly accepting Byleth's explanation. "That puts you right back in battle . . ."

"Which is why I'm hesitant. I fear that I would just relive this. And I'd rather not, if it's all going to end the same."

"If I can protect you then you won't have those injuries," Dimitri followed the thought path surprisingly well.

"You will likely not remember this conversation. For you and everyone else, this entire branch will be undone and forgotten."

"I see. But you'll remember it? You've done this many times before, haven't you?" Dimitri observed, "Obviously, there is a good reason to try it."

"Without a reason to act differently, though, you will follow the same path. The only merit to this plan is that _I_ will know where the lurkers are. It is a small boon; one that may not be enough."

"Then I'd be doomed to repeat that same mistake," Dimitri shamefully admitted.

"That's just how it goes." Byleth downplayed it with a shrug. "Normally, a mistake like this could easily be rectified, but I think that trying a rewind would only result in wasted effort. And I have to be careful how I use my energy right now."

"If you think that is the better course." Dimitri had no idea himself, "But, what do you think will happen now?"

Byleth sat back on the parapet and placed clasped hands on his lap, "My hope is with proper healing I can make it through. It might just take longer than I want it to."

"I don't think we can afford another five years without you," Dimitri said.

"I know," Byleth closed his eyes, "I can't summon the full circle, at any rate. I will make my decision when the pulse has a charge."

"How much longer do you need?"

"I am not sure," Byleth folded his arms with eyes still resting.

"Cold?" Dimitri asked.

"Tired." He said softly.

Dimitri placed his hands over Byleth's, and asked, "Can I do anything for you?"

Byleth opened his eyes slightly and smiled, "The tomb where Edelgard first attacked us has a throne. You remember it, right?"

"The Holy Tomb?" Dimitri nodded.

"Yes. Take me there. I might be able . . . to . . ." Byleth's head bobbed after his words trailed off. Dimitri held Byleth's head up with one hand while still holding hands with the other. Byleth slipped one hand out and lightly caressed Dimitri's face.

"We're close now." Byleth chuckled, "If there's anything you want to tell me, do so now."

"I . . ." Dimitri sighed, "I just don't want to lose you."

"I don't want to leave you."

Dimitri frowned, "I don't understand why you give me a passing thought."

"Stop underplaying your importance to me. You and I have been through too much for you to hold on to those sentiments."

"It's not a sentiment if it's true." Dimitri argued and pulled away. "You're only dying because I abandoned you."

Byleth exhaled, "I don't blame you for this."

"I can't see how it's not my fault. In all honesty, you should hate me."

"I don't. I've been foolishly in love with you for a long time. I doubt it's possible for me to ever hate you."

Dimitri forcefully rubbed his face, applying the most pressure over his eyes. With his face still hidden away, Dimitri said, "I will find a way."

Byleth gently took Dimitri's hands and lowered them, then reassured, "No, you won't." Byleth pulled Dimitri into another embrace.

"Is it okay to return these feelings?" Dimitri wondered, feeling overwhelmed by the usually emotionally level professor.

Byleth looked up at him with a smile, "I have no objections."

"Hah . . . Of course you don't," Dimitri slowly cupped Byleth's face, internally struggling with whether or not he should. Even though Dimitri often misunderstood Byleth, especially in the beginning, he always found Byleth to have an elegance to him. A certain captivating beauty.

Dimitri leaned forward and touched foreheads. Byleth enfolded his hands around Dimitri's wrists and pressed his body into Dimitri's. It was unclear who initiated it, but the pair locked into a bittersweet kiss, knowing time ran short.

When Dimitri opened his eye, he stared at a fire. The rain poured ruthlessly overhead and he remembered where he was. The Knight's hall. He took shelter here at the start of the storm – but what happened to Byleth? That couldn't have been just a dream . . . right?

He pushed himself off the couch and went to the double doors. The concrete and earth drowned in the wrath of the sky, but Dimitri went out into the elements. With renewed energy, he set out to Byleth.


	5. The Desperate

**Notes:**

**Warning:**

**The Suicide and Death themes are strong in this chapter. Trigger Warnings do apply in this chapter, so read at your own discretion.**

Chapter 5

The Desperate

'The Holy Tomb.' Dimitri wondered once he was indoors once more. How would he even transport Byleth in this rain? The professor seemed to think there was a solution down there – although he started to wane in the middle of his reasoning.

"You can't take him there," The woman in white blocked his path, "It isn't safe."

"I am beginning to really distrust you," Dimitri growled, "Byleth said that he needed to go to the Holy Tomb. I will take him."

"Even if you could brave these conditions, you don't understand what lurks in the Holy Tomb," She urgently explained.

"I don't have time for this," Dimitri pressed passed her and launched himself up the stairs. He saw Dedue standing guard and he pointed out immediately, "Your Highness. You are completely soaked."

Dimitri had not realized it, but he left a trail of water behind him. Water pooled off the ends of his hair and his coat clung to his person. Still, he was given an order.

"Dedue." Dimitri said, "Can we take the professor to the Holy Tomb?"

The Duscar man eyed out the nearest window and saw the large droplets aggressively hitting the pane, "It would be impossible."

Why was everything against him right now!? Dedue was right, of course. To get to the Holy Tomb, they would have to go back outside for a moment, and with Byleth's life threatening wounds, that journey was a monumental risk.

"You should change clothes," Dedue suggested, "Put those up over the fire to dry. I am sure there are some dry slacks in the storage room."

"Tch," Dimitri could not argue with Dedue. To buy himself some time to think, Dimitri went into the storage room and found a pair of evening clothes to change into. He undressed fully – the rain managed to seep through to his undergarments.

After he put on the evening attire and found a spare pair of boots, he draped his clothes over the fireplace in the break room and came face to face with the woman in the white dress again.

"Dimitri. Listen to me, child," She said.

"We're the same age, by the looks of it," Dimitri pointed out, "So, who are you? Really?"

"The women in my bloodline age very well," She curtsied, "But . . . that is far from the point. I need you to abandon this goal of taking Byleth to the Tomb. It is not safe."

"So you said before. And why should I believe you?" Dimitri asked defiantly.

"I am the one who allowed you to speak with him," She reminded, "I have no reason to sabotage you. Byleth has a perfectly valid reason for thinking that Tomb could help him – but he doesn't realize that since Rhea's been missing and his state has deteriorated, that the Holy Tomb has become treacherous."

"Treacherous in what way?" Dimitri folded his arms.

"There are secrets to this place that the Archbishop had sealed away. Without her power, such secrets have stirred. To take him there would have unattended adverse effects. I can keep them at bay while he heals, but you would be sending him in the mouth of the very beasts who want him dead."

"Tell me more of these 'beasts', then." Dimitri asked, formulating a plan of attack.

"Once Byleth awakens, they will retreat. It is only because he is weak that they fester." She seemed to be telling the truth, but her words were riddled.

"Why not end them now?" Dimitri prepared to take down anyone that threatened Byleth.

"To . . . completely eradicate them you must destroy the nucleus that binds them all together. To do that . . . you would have to find the core that brought them life in the first place. Or, at least, that is the only method that I know of."

"The core that brought them life?" Dimitri's forehead scrunched, "Is that like the demonic beasts and those experiments the empire does?"

"Hm . . . I suppose so. At any rate, that core was damaged tonight. As a result, they woke up. They want the core back."

Dimitri did not understand, "So, where is this core? How did it get damaged?"

"I cannot tell you," She walked away as she gave her last bid, "But . . . their goals align with Byleth's downfall. Do not take him to the Holy Tomb, no matter what."

Dimitri ran after her, but the woman managed to lose him again. Who – or what – was that she? Dedue noticed him again and asked, "You look troubled. What is wrong?"

"Did you see a woman pass by?"

Dedue shook his head, "No."

A woman who Dimitri saw, but disappeared around everyone else. In truth, if Flayn had not seen this woman as well, Dimitri would have thought that she was a figment of his imagination. That Flayn saw her made the enigmatic woman all too real.

So, why had no one else seen her yet? Aloof did not quite explain the mysterious methods in which she moved. There was no where she could have vanished – and yet, she slipped away even in these narrow halls.

"Am I able to visit him?" Dimitri asked Dedue.

"No. He is undergoing strenuous healing rituals."

Dimitri understood, though he just wanted to return to Byleth's side. There was too much left that Dimitri wanted to ask the professor and a lot he wanted to do with him . . . Dimitri would do anything to ensure the professor's survival.

Dimitri noticed the lack of presence on the third floor, "Where is everyone else? Our class?"

"Seteth is in the audience chamber. I don't know about anyone else."

Dimitri wondered about Seteth and Flayn. He thanked Dedue for the information and headed toward the chamber. Seteth stood before the throne in prayer, "Please Mother. If you are listening and able, please turn this situation around. I cannot fathom how our condition marred so hastily."

"Mother?" Dimitri asked. To invoke one's mother over the Goddess, especially from Seteth, was odd.

Seteth turned around and scolded, "Goddess, do not sneak up on me right now! . . . How can I help you?" He asked tersely.

"I was hoping for an update. How is Flayn?"

"Recovering. She fell asleep. I have not seen anyone else to learn of the woman in white's search progression. Unless you can provide one?"

Dimitri debated it – his interactions with the woman were downright mystic and the prince wondered if Seteth would dismiss him. "The woman in white. I have seen her. She claims that there are enemies lurking in the Holy Tomb . . . what are your thoughts on that?"

"The Holy Tomb? How would that be possible?" Seteth questioned, "I need you to tell me all that you know."

After a moment of recollection, Dimitri told Seteth about the graveyard visits and the appearance she just made, but did not tell him about the dream. With Seteth filled in, the advisor comprehended, "Nucleus and core that brought these creatures life. The core was damaged tonight? I wonder if that could possibly mean . . ."

"I am listening," Dimitri waited for Seteth to explain his hypothesis on those ambiguous words.

"If the 'core' was damaged then I could only think of one explanation, though it is on the farfetched side . . ."

Dimitri laughed internally at that and expressed, "Nothing is farfetched anymore. Whatever it is you think it may be could help."

Seteth appreciated the sentiment and said, "The core was damaged and Byleth –" Seteth's words were cut off by sudden commotion in the hall. "What is going on this time?"

He and Dimitri hurried to see the mages scrambling once more, shouting between the magically proficient and the medically trained. "Report!" Seteth called to them, "What is happening?"

"The wound caused by the arrow is not healing," one of the healers said, "It pierced his heart from behind and we can't get it to mend."

"And the professor?" Dimitri asked forwardly.

The magic medic shook his head, "We're starting to lose him again, sir . . ."

"Seteth!" Dimitri felt all those negative emotions incubated within beginning to unleash once more, "What is lurking in the Holy Tomb? If we're going to lose Byleth standing around here, would risking the journey be justified?"

"What are you suggesting, prince?" Seteth asked just as worked up.

Dimitri returned, "The throne in the Holy Tomb. If we rest his body there, will that help his odds?"

"And how do you know about that?" Seteth's eyes went wide. "Of course, under normal circumstances that might just work. If this woman is correct and something is awake down there . . . Ugh. Goddess, what do we do?"

"You thought you knew something about that core? What is it?"

"It's another word for a Crest Stone if I am following her logic correctly. The stone that gave those creatures life . . . if she's correct, then she's referring to a specific stone and that Lady Rhea . . ." Seteth trailed off, battling something within himself.

"Argh!" Dimitri lost his temper, "Can you just come out with it!?"

"That same core that was damaged tonight was pierced by an arrow," Seteth concluded, "Byleth's heart and the core are the same thing."

"Wh-What?" Dimitri was taken aback, "But how? That doesn't make any sense!"

Seteth went very quiet and steadily explained, "If I am correct, then there is only one way wherein it does. That woman in white . . . could she be one of them?"

"_Them who!?_" None of this made any sense to Dimitri. The mages were hustling again – and it distracted Dimitri. '_He's dying_! What do I do?'

"Those creatures are desperate to revive," Seteth decided, "We can't . . . we can't take him there. They would devour him."

"You can't mean they would actually eat him, right?" Dimitri asked for clarification. The look on Seteth's face, however, told Dimitri that it was a literal statement. '_The Holy Tomb is not safe. He's dying. What can we do!?' _Dimitri felt a pressure headache building again. He was useless in this – not a healer and unable to move him to the one place that may help Byleth, Dimitri sat outside waiting for the inevitable.

_Was there really nothing he could do?_

If Byleth truly possessed the ability to turn back time, he must. "I need to talk to him," Dimitri muttered to himself, fully realizing that this current line of events was damned. This path only ended in death.

Dimitri ran down the stairs, much to Seteth's surprise, and hoped to cross paths with the woman in white. 'I have to speak with him! The only way to survive this is to erase this altogether. It's the only way'. Dimitri told himself as he ran toward the cathedral.

The rain poured as it had been. He encountered no one else along the way – the enemies must have fled and the allies took cover because of the elements.

He stopped on the bridge, soaked in his recently changed clothing, and waited in front of where Byleth and he spoke in the dream. "Byleth!" Dimitri called, hoping to interact with the spirit form. '_How else could I speak with him?'_

Neither the woman nor Byleth appeared before him. He was alone, trounced by rain. _'This can't be how this ends . . .'_

Only the rain greeted him.

'Is there nothing I can do?'

Lightning streaked across the sky and a roaring of thunder answered the bright, unwelcoming light.

'I can't just fall asleep again. That's how we talked the last time, right? I was asleep. Dreaming.'

Dimitri turned around and saw the professor's knife lodged into a dead attacker's forehead. Dimitri squatted over the man and, with some difficulty, pulled out the knife. Instantly, the blood washed off. Cleansed. The diluted red subsistence drizzled down Dimitri's arm and stained his sleeves, pants, and boots.

'If I can't sleep . . . then . . .'

He examined the knife. Without the colorful blue sheath, a dull and dark gray blade with an intricate hilt took view.

'If this is not the correct path. . .'

The blade matched the hilt in color. Simple. Elegant.

'I need to cut a desirable one.'

Dimitri stood up with the blade in hand and called out, "Byleth!" No one answered him but the sound of his own voice reverberating back. Dimitri felt his own heartbeat. Fast. Pumping valuable blood throughout his body, it mocked him. Dimitri outlasted death for so long and for no sound reason.

Dimitri extended his arm outward with the knife pointed at his chest. He was, in that moment, frightened. When he finally faced the choice to end it all, he was met with fear. He gave either the woman or Byleth one final chance to appear. One final chance to dissuade him.

The only reaction came from a loud crackle from the heavens. Apparently, the Goddess herself approved.

He cupped his other hand around his knuckles and prepared to drive the knife inward. He felt sick to his stomach as the pulse pounded in every facet throughout his body. He closed his eye. The nerves of going through with this gave him a final pause.

Dimitri convinced himself and found conviction. With no further hesitation, he plunged the dagger into his heart and the results were instantaneous. It was not pain that he felt. It was sudden drowsiness and the inability to stand.

He fell forward and the world around him spiraled. He felt a rupture explode in his head, thinking it might have been thunder at first. But . . . no, it came within.

Dimitri next found himself on the same bridge under a sunrise. It was beautiful. The chaos from before suddenly seemed to slip away.

"What were you thinking!?" A familiar voice yelled at him. A voice that normally does not shout. "I told you not to kill yourself, Dimitri!" Byleth. He had an uncharacteristically enraged face for someone usually so calm.

"Byleth," Dimitri smiled, knowing he succeeded.

"Don't. I am very upset with you right now."

"But I needed to talk to you," Dimitri rationalized, "And here you are."

Byleth only frowned more. His eyes burned with some really fierce anger, "Normal people don't put a dagger through their own heart to communicate with someone. Why couldn't you just be patient for once?"

"The mages said you were dying. The woman in white showed me I could talk to you. And you're here. So. . . are you able to turn back time now?"

"That's your great plan?" Byleth exhaled sharply, "You ended your life on a whim that I'd be able to perform the Divine Pulse? I told you why it wasn't a reliable option earlier, Dimitri!"

"Life is too meaningless without you," Dimitri argued, "If you can't turn back time then I die with you. If you can, then we both survive. Either way, I'm with you in the end."

Byleth crossed his arms and turned away, "You are so far off the mark. I can't survive this encounter on my own, but you've forced my hand. I have no choice but to try to save your life. And I will give you no hints next time."

"You know, Byleth." Dimitri felt calmer than he had in his entire adult life. Death was surprisingly tranquil. "I will probably just come to the same conclusion, with or without your wisdom. My mind cannot take your loss and so suicide might be my only answer."

"You can't really believe that," Byleth remained closed-off from Dimitri. Why? All Dimitri could feel was the lifting of an overbearingly unfair responsibility that left him mentally crippled and disillusioned. All Dimitri wanted to do now was take Byleth and enjoy each other's company.

"Oh. If you manage to turn back time," Dimitri changed the topic, "There's something you should know about the Holy Tomb. I don't know the specifics but it's too dangerous to go there. Some type of beasts have awakened and will try to kill you."

Byleth squinted his eyes and still remained irritable, "Well, that's something to consider. But I have not even began to forgive you for this."

Dimitri nodded and continued to feel euphoric, "That's fine. You can't stay mad at me forever, right? Or did I finally find a way for you to hate me?"

"Do you realize what you've done? You've just willfully abandoned all of the people who count on us! I am trying to fight through my own injuries, but you threw it all away."

Dimitri walked forward, "You think I abandoned everyone? I think I did them a favor."

"And Dedue? Have you considered his feeling? Or do you think you've done him a 'favor', too?" Byleth stopped Dimitri from getting any closer with an outstretched arm and a palm on his chest.

"Dedue is strong." Dimitri said and caressed the hand on his chest. Even as spirits, Byleth's hands were warm and inviting, "He has brothers who can carry out his plans to restore Duscar. I value his friendship, Byleth. But I just can't do this anymore. I can't lose you, specifically."

Byleth pulled away his hand and said, "They still have to survive this war, and I don't foresee Edelgard showing them mercy. Seteth would never ally with her, regardless – do you think the monastery would, either?"

"What's done is done," Dimitri shrugged then watched the unmoving sunrise. "The only one who can change things is you. The war carries on with or without us . . . and those who die are rewarded with something as peaceful as this? I wonder why we fear death now."

"I don't know what lies beyond the sunrise. It could be pleasant or it could be something worse," Byleth said and faced Dimitri, "All I know for certain is the soul survives beyond death."

"That's fantastic news, wouldn't you agree?" Dimitri could not take his eyes off the sunrise. The wonderful mix of red and yellow tones against a light blue backdrop.

"It's almost as if you are ready to move on," Byleth sighed, easing up, "I see. With your life, I can't imagine why you would linger here. Don't stray too far away. I'm not ready to give up just yet, even if you are."

"Don't worry," Dimitri assured, "I won't go anywhere without you. Life or death, I will stick with you."

"We have to work on realistic boundaries once we resolve this," Byleth scolded with some sass, then he began to focus. Dimitri saw the shimmering of the golden circle take form. As the circle formed the world around them began to change. Green orbs floated in the air. Dimitri carefully touched one with his pointer finger and felt a burning sensation rush through the entirety of his body.

It only hurt on the tip of his finger – everywhere else felt revitalized. In the corner of his eye, however, he saw lines crack the sky. Then the earth. Everywhere he looked, the world began to break and pull apart.

Soon, all the grand pieces shattered and left a darkness behind. A purple scaled image of what used to exist outlined everything, and suddenly that sunrise felt more ominous.

"Don't worry," Byleth chuckled at Dimitri's expression, "This is what normally happens."

"Th-then this world is . . .?"

"Disappearing. Being overwritten." The events of the last few hours replayed in reverse while the images were stained purple. To see it all unfold was a daunting experience. "I will go back as far as I can. I wonder . . . I hope that you will remember this. You might . . . be able to." Byleth stumbled forward, reacting to a painful outburst from his heart, but maintained the Pulse.

"Byleth!" Dimitri wanted to support him, but Byleth shook his head.

"Don't get too close. I don't know what will happen if you do." There were words etched into the circle. Dimitri realized there were several sentences. What he could make out said, '. . .in the Goddess . . .' but the closer he examined, the more out of focus the words became.

A bright white light expelled at their feet and it overtook everything, including Byleth and Dimitri separately. The light made Dimitri fall unconscious and it felt like his memories were slipping away.

'_Byleth . . . I must save . . . my professor'_


	6. Time Breaker

Time Breaker

Byleth found himself standing by the pews. He cursed Dimitri's impulsive decision, but remembered that it was likely this version of the soon to be crowned king would not know what he chose to do. Byleth lurched forward from the jolt of the misused time pulse. He felt a sharp ache in his temples, and consequently, felt something pouring from his nostrils. He wiped it, unsurprised to discover blood.

Byleth plugged it with his knuckles. He felt unwell from earlier exhaustion, breaking time to overwrite his death, and the ghost pains of the wounds he erased. As if a pair of hands gripped him in full, air tightened in his lungs.

Dimitri touched the door, ready to leave the grounds, but confusion took over. He couldn't place the conversation they just had, but something felt amiss. Like he forgot the last few hours of his life.

The feeling of anger fluttered away – and dread devoured him. Something inside him remembered that dream he had, the premonition of the professor's death by his hands, and suddenly all he could think of was what could go wrong if he took another step forward.

He looked back and saw the professor faltering with a hand covering his face and the other stabling himself. Dimitri hurried back to him. The professor startled when he heard footsteps approaching but calmed back down when he saw that it was just Dimitri. When Dimitri was in earshot, the professor said, "I don't think I can make it back to my room on my own."

Dimitri nodded, unable to speak. He played the conversation in his head, the one that sent in a spiraling rage, and did not trust the professor because of it. Yet, even still, he did not want harm to befall the professor.

Byleth closed his eyes. His equilibrium failed and his vision spun out of control. A rush of blood fell, streaming down his fingers. Byleth grimaced as it happened. He tilted his head back to drain it. Vertigo knocked his senses into a frenzy, and he fell backward.

Dimitri caught him instinctively, with one hand supporting Byleth by the tailbone, and the other between his shoulder blades. Muffled by his hand, Byleth's said, "Did Gilbert mention anything about infiltrations lately?"

Dimitri nodded and pulled him to a better position. Byleth removed his hand to talk clearly.

"If they attacked me now, I'd probably lose," Dimitri's grip tightened, squeezing Byleth's clothes, "I need you to guide me. To the infirmary or to my room, I will let you choose. We can finish our discussion then."

Dimitri agreed nonverbally still.

"Thank you. Be ready for anything."

Dimitri slid his hands out and took the professor by his free elbow. They took slow steps to navigate around the pew, as Byleth's balance was poor. He constantly shifted too much weight to his right, and Dimitri ended up wrapping his arm around Byleth's back instead. They were locked at the hip, and Byleth leaned into Dimitri for support.

Part of Byleth's lack of balance was due to him holding his head back in a hopeless attempt to drain the nosebleed. In keeping his professor sturdy, Dimitri shifted his hand and found something under the professor's robes, making them both wince. It was rough and felt unusual, located just above the professor's hip.

"What is that?" Dimitri asked with a rough voice.

"Stiches."

"Oh," Dimitri shifted his grip to avoid that area.

"You're fine," Byleth laughed weakly, then listened and watched for the assassin or his accomplices.

Byleth's head rattled and his vision spotted. He covered his face with his hand, freeing his nose. He tilted his head forward, placing pressure on his forehead. In tending his forehead, blood escaped and dripped on the floor.

"Professor? What's wrong?"

He scrunched his fingers, covering one eye with the tips of his pointer and middle finger. His opened eye quickly went completely black. Byleth blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust, but to no avail.

Byleth started to worry now. He couldn't have just gone blind. He denied it, but it was a possible side effect of summoning the divine pulse without proper energy reserves.

Fortunately, he could start making out the door; however, giant blind spots still blotted his field of vision.

"Oh. Good. It's coming back now."

"Coming back?"

"Yes. I was completely blind just now."

"Blind?" Dimitri starred Byleth down, "And now?"

"Better," He squinted.

"Do you need to sit down a moment?"

Byleth shook his head, urgently insisting, "No. No. We need to get out of here."

"You feel it, too, then," Dimitri stated.

"Feel what, exactly?" Byleth pushed, wondering if Dimitri remembered.

"There's something wrong. I just don't know what."

"Then, yes. I feel that way."

". . . You would tell me if . . ." He failed to find the proper words to express himself. They were _just _talking a few moments ago. But it felt like so much more time passed than that and it perplexed Dimitri.

"Are you getting hits of déjà vu?" The professor asked.

"No?" Dimitri shook his head, "Like I'm missing the last few hours."

"Oh," Byleth hoped Dimitri could remember it. There was evidence that he knew, somewhere deep down, as they were already defying fate. Then again, maybe it was easier to misdirect. Byleth was charged with protecting his flock but doomed to lie to them and live in isolation because the divine pulse just did not allow others to remember unwritten time.

"It's interesting how you came to déjà vu. On your own, I might add. You would tell me if you knew something, right? Then again, you haven't been very forthcoming with other things, so perhaps not."

"Can we please not fight. I will tell you everything you want to know when we are safe."

"Everything? I hope you can live up to that promise."

"So do I."

"Alright. I'll believe you, for now," He looked at the stretch they still had to walk, "Can you see?"

"For the most part."

Dimitri sighed, "It would be faster if I . . . if I carry you."

"What?" Byleth was caught off guard.

"It was just a suggestion," Dimitri sounded agitated, and regretted bringing it up.

"Well, yes. It would be faster . . ." Byleth felt another wave of the nosebleed trickle down. Honestly, he probably would collapse soon and needed a health evaluation before his body completely capsized again.

"Okay," Byleth consented with a nod, which was enough for Dimitri to crouch and sweep the professor's legs off the ground. Byleth yelped at the sudden motion and lack of stability. "A little warning would have been nice!"

Something flipped in Dimitri and laughed at the professor's expense.

"What was that sound, professor?"

From what little light flickered in the chapel, Dimitri could see the professor's expression: a cross between embarrassment and surprise. His startled breathing made it that much better, as it was not easy to make him lose composure.

With the tension gone and after the shock wore off, Byleth smiled. Dimitri, while not completely over the conversation from before, felt himself smiling at last.

Byleth leaned his head back and worked on draining again while watching for the assassin. Dimitri looked at the professor and he momentarily saw a blurry vision of the professor, torn apart and dying. He inhaled sharply, catching the attention of his professor.

"What?" Byleth asked. Dimitri focused on the blood on the professor's hand and compared it to what he just saw. The torrent flowing from the professor's face was only a rain drop of what the storm could bring.

"It's nothing." Dimitri lied. Something was terribly wrong here.

"Are you sure?"

Dimitri nodded and walked toward their exit. Byleth felt his empty insides warbling at the sway. A memory of his own surfaced and suddenly it made sense. It was Dimitri who returned for him and shielded him from the fatal blow.

No. The fatal blow came from the arrow. Regardless, reliving death was never a pleasant experience, but at least he could answer a few questions about the process itself. Yes, the soul existed. And yes, it went _somewhere _afterwards. But Byleth never reached the afterlife, though this last time was close. He suspected when it finally happened, he would not be able to return.

A similar struggle of forgetting elapsed between Byleth's dying moments and his attempts at rewriting fate. His will clung to an impossible hope and he was only successful when Dimitri chose to end his own life. Byleth wondered just how Dimitri manage to reach him in the window between life and death that first time.

Even now, Byleth knew that Dimitri yearned to learn the full truth. His mind worked to bring those broken shards together – to unite them under one full picture. Byleth would be more than willing to supply the missing fragments but feared the backlash from it.

They passed the spot where Byleth originally fell and lost consciousness. The curfew bell tolled, and a chill ran down both of their spins simultaneously. Byleth craned his neck to check their backs but did not see who he ought to have by then. Dimitri kept walking but struggled to find a way to open the doors once he reached them.

"Ah. This is so much faster," Byleth teased. He then outstretched his arm for the door. Together, they pushed on the door, but it did not budge.

"That's strange . . ." Byleth said.

"Did you push hard enough?"

"Yes?" They put more force behind it, "It's locked? Do these doors even have a – Dimitri, put me down."

Without argument, he lowered the professor while also steadying him. They were both on edge. Dimitri tested the door with now freed hands.

"We are locked in," He confirmed.

"When did that happen?" Byleth asked. It was unusual for the enemy to deviate from the script, too.

"No idea. Let's try one of the side doors."

Byleth nodded in agreement.

"Are you able to walk on your own?"

"I'll have to be."

"I don't care for that answer. Not like we have a choice," He gripped his sword, since he left his lance at his personal quarters. Better than the professor, who had _nothing _on him.

Dimitri took the lead and Byleth kept his balance on Dimitri's belt; he found himself moving faster, at least. They stayed to the wall and both kept an eye on their surroundings, approaching the Goddess Tower entrance, where they previously conversed. The door opened with ease. Even so, they both suspected a trap.

"I see no one," Dimitri said. They walked to the outside and the cold wind only became more brutal.

"Any one of those towers would be a good place for a sniper," Byleth said, "Though that would mean they have access to the guard stations."

"Surprising lack of patrol," Dimitri noted.

"If they're in the guard ranks. . ."

". . . Yeah," They approached the stairs, lowering to the central area. Byleth placed a hand on the wall, looking uneasy about tackling steps.

"Just be careful," Dimitri stayed to the right of the professor. Byleth hugged Dimitri's arm on the descent.

They reached the bottom step. To the left was another set of stairs that fed to the main entrance, and to the bridge connecting the chapel to the rest of the monastery. To the right, a gated off area; normally, a guard protected this area, but it too was vacant.

"Nowhere to go but up," Byleth joked.

"You should go first. If you fall, I will catch you."

"I hope it doesn't come to that . . ."

Byleth took the first few steps but started to hold his side on the way back up. Dimitri held out his arms in anticipation. The professor's knees gave out a few steps later and he grunted as he staggered. Dimitri caught the professor and propped him back up, growing increasingly concerned.

When they reached the top, Byleth slumped against the wall by the scaffoldings and strained to catch his breath.

"Professor. . . How are you holding up?"

"I'll live," He said. Byleth regulated control over his respiration. Dimitri did not like that answer, either.

"I find it too odd that we've made it this far, without so much as a hint of another soul. If they wanted to ambush us, they had ample opportunities to do so."

"They want to lead us somewhere," Byleth said.

"If they locked that door to the chapel, then the gate to the bride may be lowered as well." The only convenient way out of the chapel without resorting to tunnels under the riverbed.

"We'd be trapped in an enclosed area." The professor agreed to Dimitri's line of logic. "That does mean they are close. If we can find their location first, we might gain an advantage."

"Stay here a moment, professor." Dimitri peered into the cramped space that served as their only exit. A chain held the cathedral doors from opening and the gate was lowered, just as they expected. The professor started to shiver.

Dimitri undid his cloak and wrapped Byleth in it, then commented, "Whatever we do, we need to do soon. I don't care what you say, professor. You are not well."

"Oh. I wonder," Byleth said.

"Are you contesting it?"

"No. I made a conscious effort to hide my injuries. The only ones who'd have known are those who witnessed it and the healers."

"What are you saying?"

"They knew about my injury. This is an attack of opportunity."

"They were waiting for a misstep. . . We should have returned much sooner." Dimitri grimaced.

"There's nothing we can do to change that now. Do you know how to raise the gate?"

"I'm not sure where the lever is." Dimitri shook his head.

"Above?" Byleth pointed to the windows. Clearly, there was a way to get up there, though neither had the slightest clue how.

"That's likely. No telling how to get to it."

Byleth inspected the scaffolding, which rose to barely a fourth of the total height of the wall. There was, however, a balcony a few feet away from the structure and a farfetched idea came to mind, "Up, around, and down?"

"You can barely walk, and you want to try a ladder? Over a steep fall?"

The professor shrugged, acting casually about the whole situation, "It's not ideal. But I'm not sure what else we can do."

Dimitri contemplated it for a moment and gripped one of the legs, "It would be easy to push this over. We would have to make sure it doesn't collapse, though."

"Or that it doesn't get tampered with as we climb."

"That too," Dimitri nodded, "How do we know we won't run into trouble at the top?"

"We don't." Though Byleth knew for sure that they would, "Well, do you have a plan B?"

"No, I do not."

"It would be a good place for a marksman to hide," Byleth recalled there being only one archer, but it only took four encounters to end his life. There could be more than just the four waiting patiently for their turn. "There are a few crates blocking the corner. Hm. Can you lift them or push them and block off this area? That would make climbing unhindered far easier."

"I can." Dimitri let go of the leg and moved the crates. The first was considerably heavy, but Dimitri's prowess let him lift and rest it on his shoulder with ease. One of the things that Dimitri absolutely loved about the professor, he realized, was that the professor disregarded his royal lineage and would ask these tasks of him. There was never any fighting about why his status should undermine his ability. Tasks like this suited him. And the professor was quick to utilize it.

Dimitri sat the first crate down, then double backed and lifted the other two simultaneously. He figured he could handle them and barely struggled to do so. The professor waited near the bench, resting on the back but not allowing himself to sit. He made sure they were not ambushed by an aerial attack.

Byleth felt uneasy about the change in the opposition's movements. Normally, he could count on them retaining their exact actions – yet, the assassin with the dagger had not shown his face – which could be explained by Dimitri's presence, sure. A change in course caused by catalyst, such as Dimitri, may ripple into something else entirely.

But they locked the door and lowered the gate. This was troubling. Dimitri finished blocking their area and began shifting the scaffolding slowly, to keep the construction's crossbars structurally sound. Once that was done, Dimitri waved him over and said, "I have an idea. I will climb up first. Then you stay at the bottom of the ladder and keep a firm grip on it. Okay?"

"Okay. What is your plan?" The professor asked.

"I will pull you and the ladder up at the same time." Dimitri said and the professor agreed. Dimitri ascended quickly and the professor positioned himself to stay in place while Dimitri drew him up. They were on the first platform, with one more to go. They followed the same plan and were on the upper deck of the framework.

Dimitri placed the ladder on the wall and readied to climb it to reach the balcony. The professor stopped him and said, "We don't know what's up there. Do you have a way to counter at range?"

"No." Dimitri shook his head, "I can take a few hits, though."

"I can attack with magic, if it comes to that." Byleth argued, "Let me go first."

"Definitely not. No. I refuse. You are unstable and you don't need to fall to your death, again."

"Again?" Interesting, as Byleth had learned that Dimitri did not know about that fact until they discussed it in his dream phase. He retained that information, but it did not make sense, yet.

"Didn't you fall? Isn't that why you disappeared?" Dimitri asked.

Byleth nodded, "Oh, that's true all right. But, how did you know?"

Dimitri thought about it for a moment and said, "I . . . don't know." He just knew. The professor's silence for five years was due to an injury sustained by a fall.

"It doesn't matter at this moment," Byleth changed the topic, "Whoever goes first may have to respond to a threat. Do you know any spells, Dimitri?"

"Um. I know thunder? But not consistently," Dimitri shook his head, "I only use spells if I have nothing else going for me. And it usually isn't all that strong. Or reliable."

"Well. You have nothing else going for you if it's ranged like a bow or magic. If you can, use whatever is at your disposal."

"Okay." Dimitri went up first, having apparently won the argument. Byleth followed him up, though, stubborn men that they both were. Once Dimitri's head was above the balcony's fence, Dimitri looked around for anyone. An arrow came at him and he ducked below.

At the same time, Byleth noticed the assassin climbing the crates from below. They were trying to corner them after all. While the threat came from both above and below, Byleth and Dimitri had to act quickly and precisely to make it out of the cathedral area.

Author Notes:

This chapter is giving me a hard time. This chapter I decided to split into two parts, which is why the ending may seem abrupt. Will try to post the next part soon :)


	7. Narrow Paths

Notes:

I will NOT be considering the DLC wave to be 'cannon' to this story. I began writing and planning before it was ever mentioned. If you ever played Resident Evil, we can consider the DLC like the 'Ghost Survivor Stories'; a wonderful little what-if that doesn't actually happen :p

I'm not changing direction now, that's all.

Narrow Paths

As the assassin climbed up onto the crate and centered himself on the box, Byleth assessed that he had no choice. Even without the ladder, the assassin could rise to his and Dimitri's level, and so Byleth made a calculated decision. He summoned his greatest fire spell and shot it toward the assassin, setting the three crates and the assailant aflame. The sounds of the assassin screaming as the fire crackled confirmed that it was a deathly blow.

His chest compressed and his world went spinning once more. Byleth closed his eyes and fastened his entire body to the ladder, dreading that he would fall like Dimitri feared earlier. Even in the darkness beneath his eyelids, he felt his head whirling. Byleth barely heard Dimitri, who said, "With those crates burning, someone should notice us." He had not noticed Byleth's state.

Which made sense, as Dimitri was locked in his own battle. Magic was an especially weak form of his and he thought back to his lessons. Reasoning and knowing the mechanics of the world led to magic. It is a form of both will and wisdom . . .

He felt a crackle in his hand. Dimitri visualized the full circle, then showed the upper half of his body, releasing the magic contained in the inner circle of the summoning spell. His thunder was too out of control and missed the marksman by an unfortunate low curving arch that stained the stone around his feet.

Left open, the marksman countered and Dimitri just barely ducked low enough for it to brush passed the top of his head. Byleth opened his eyes. It was spotted vision that rocked back and forth inconsistently, but was slowly returning to normal.

Byleth moved his hand to his waste and removed the dagger from his belt without trying to sway too much one way or the other. "Dimitri." He called gently, lifting his hand to gift him the blade. "Think of it like a javelin throw." Using magic would clearly kill Dimitri, Byleth concluded.

Dimitri planned a devious attack. He summoned a circle once more, allowing the marksman to prepare for another lightning strike. Dimitri rose and released the magic, and the marksman dodged. While he was mid recoil, Dimitri sharply threw the knife, which pierced the marksman in the heart. 2 enemies down. A smoke distress signal. Things were already looking brighter.

Dimitri climbed to the balcony and raised Byleth with it. There were three balconies that faced the rest of the monastery, but they were not connected. There was a window to each, but not a door. They were installed for decoration purposes, not practical.

Byleth inspected the window. The monastery kept these windows locked and therefore it could not be opened from the outside. Byleth decided they could not afford to wait around and he smashed the window – a beautiful stain glass with red tones – with his elbow, careful to not cut himself.

"Professor!" Dimitri scolded, 'Those are a thousand years old! You just destroyed history!"

"The windows do not mind. It's us or the property, and I don't think anyone would care about another repair." Byleth carefully removed shards from the sill, then threw his leg over one at a time, entering the inner hall. Dimitri followed, still disappointed at the property damage.

"We could have waited for backup," Dimitri grumbled.

"As I thought," Byleth pointed at one end, "Those stairs probably connect all the way down into the underground passages. We could attempt to use them, but I am not sure that would get us anywhere."

"We would most certainly get lost," Dimitri agreed with hesitancy. He walked to a lever – there was one on either side of the hall, but he chose the one closest to a very tall ladder that extend into the belfry. "We can raise the gates now." Dimitri said.

"With that fire, we cannot return the way we came." Byleth sighed at his own destruction. He had no choice, though. "Let's leave the gates for now. I have a different idea."

"Oh?" Dimitri raised an eyebrow. The professor's mind at work was always a magical thing.

Byleth pointed to the ladder, "If you can unsecure the bolts fastening this in place, we can use it to climb down to the bridge. Since we are on this side, we can open the window without damaging it."

"That might be safer," Dimitri inspected the middle section of windows. The ladder was narrow enough to be fed through, but he worried the length would give them the most issues. Between the two of them, though, a coordinated plan would make the professor's plan doable.

Byleth opened the window – they were sliders and one half moved on the other – giving them enough space to exit freely. Byleth made sure the marksman was dead before retrieving the bow and the knife, which was stuck firmly into the archer. With a tug that knocked his vertigo back into play, Byleth very carefully returned to Dimitri.

"I'll keep the knife," Byleth said, "You're a decent shot as long as you don't snap it. I'll give you this in case we're found." Byleth handed Dimitri the bow and quiver. He equipped himself without argument and in turn gave Byleth his sword.

"Since you'll be staying on the ground, you might need a better weapon than a dagger." Byleth nodded and Dimitri ascended the ladder, making his way to the bolts. On both ends of the rectangular hall were staircases and Byleth watched them warily from the center.

Things were going a lot smoother. No further physical wounds, just the ghost ones that panged despite them no longer technically existing. Between his shoulder blades and his 'heart' rang out the most frequently, but Byleth did his best to ignore it. They would be safe soon. . . with any luck.

Since everything spiraled so quickly, the chance for Byleth to reflect on Dimitri's final message had not presented itself. Something about monsters or enemies in the holy tomb. That claim would need to be looked into once they deployed trustworthy knights to scout the cathedral grounds for the remainder insurgents. Though still tensing his muscles, Byleth felt reassured that the stealthier of the two encounters were disposed. They should hear heavy footsteps should the axe man or the false soldier guard arrive.

Dimitri decided to climb all the up and remove the secured holds from top to bottom, ensuring that if he fell due to instability, the landing would be less severe. He kept an eye out for the openings as well and would be ready to use the bow if needed.

The sound of loud and heavy clanking drew both of their attention to the same stairwell. It took them a few minutes, but they homed in on Dimitri and Byleth while the prince was still airborne. Unfortunately, Byleth had very little choice but to assume his usual battle stance.

The sword in his grip weighed differently. The steel was no more distinct than any other generic weapon he handled before – but Byleth's body wanted to drop. He wanted to sleep. He relied heavily on adrenaline at that point – his pulse picked up and he prepared a defense. The noise also alerted Dimitri, who straddled the ladder as if he were atop a horse to free his hands for the bow. He would not let the enemy strike down the professor this time.

This time?

Dimitri felt a strange sense of . . . Déjà vu. Didn't the professor say something to that affect earlier?

Dimitri snapped out of his inner confusion and readied the bow, letting it hit the first soldier who entered. Dimitri's drawback was infinitely stronger than the average male, so the force of his pull ensured a fatal shot. Unfortunately, that meant he had limited durability.

He had a finite number of arrows as it was, so Dimitri kept up his raid. He felled all three soldiers from the stairwell opposite to where they first arrived, leaving Byleth without engaging the enemy once. Then they heard the clatter of armor again – this time from both sets of stairs.

Dimitri continued to descend and unbolt while they approached. He would use his hands to tear apart anyone who dared touch his professor, but he could not do that while still on the ladder. He wanted the professor to have very little action this time around.

Byleth, meanwhile, was very thankful for the support. He wearily observed both entrances, fatigue clouding his mind all the while. He would have to participate this time, though it was possible Dimitri could manage both sides on his own.

The last of the holdings were removed and Dimitri slid the rest of the way down. He sheathed the bow and collected a spear from one of the dead soldiers. Byleth stayed on his heels, not caring to be separated at the moment.

"If we stay polarized like this, it would force them to have to catch up." Byleth realized, finding it useful to have moved to the stairwell anyway. Dimitri had the idea to ambush them while they were huddled on the stairs. He lunged at them, spear wildly, but controlled, hacking through them and their defenses. He went rabid, a rage that turned him into a cold, thirsty monster.

"Dimitri," Byleth called him back, "Do only what you need to."

The prince blinked, then nodded. The soldiers were enormously outclassed and no more. The next wave finally made it to the hall and wasted no time rushing in, but Dimitri blew past Byleth and met them head-on. He pierced the center man's torso and spun his lance around to gash the next on his backswing. Byleth battled the one who was nearest Dimitri but still unphased by the fierce spear. Byleth shielded Dimitri from a near hit and the professor dueled with unimpressive footwork.

Dimitri came at the professor's opponent from the side and swept him just as easily. Byleth and Dimitri squared one-on-one with the last two survivors, Byleth less than graceful with his footing and Dimitri boorish with his immediate breakthrough his own enemy's line of defense.

Byleth found himself only using his sword to block incoming axe attacks, even though he typically was much faster and agile. If Byleth were alone right now, he would have died several times over . . . again. It was not until he leapt back and felt his ankle roll on the land that Byleth nearly slipped his grip. A sharp pain rose from his ankle and Byleth winced sorely at it.

Dimitri rammed his spear into the axe man's neck, severing it cleanly on his pullback. Blood splattered like a fountain before the rest of his body dropped.

Byleth sighed, both in relief and concern. Dimitri's feral demeanor vanished just as quickly, displaying immediate concern. "Are you alright?" Dimitri asked, giving the professor a look over for injuries.

They were close as Dimitri confirmed that his professor was left unharmed. His professor, who had lied and angered him, but also guided him to the light and had made great strides to uphold the monastery against the Empire. Why were these facts so conflicting?

Dimitri suddenly held Byleth's gaze, looking into the emerald eyes that were once a dark blue. What did he feel? An overpowering answer came to him and Dimitri aggressively leaned in to kiss Byleth, unable to resist those eyes calling out to him. When Byleth did not struggle or stop him, Dimitri dropped the spear and grabbed at the professor's hips with both of his hands, drawing their pelvises together.

"I take it we're going back to my place, then?" Byleth asked when Dimitri came up for air. He felt a rise from both of their trousers, but Byleth kept that information to himself. Dimitri did not answer with a verbal agreement, and carelessly went for another round, attempting a full on make out session, though the professor did not respond so willingly. They were, after all, ambushed several times.

Dimitri ignored it for the moment. It felt so good – so freeing – to finally express his emotions this way; to finally have the professor in his reach. In his hunger, he accidently bit Byleth's lower lip and drew blood.

The only new injury (aside from a rolled ankle) that the professor sustained so far, ironically enough.

Dimitri apologized immediately, "I'm sorry, Byleth, I didn't mean to –" The name slipped without a thought. It was strange – like he had called the professor 'Byleth' before. Only it could not be. "I am sorry. That's your brother's name. I'm not sure why I did that."

The professor chuckled, exhaustion and pain ignored for the moment after that show of affection. Oh. Dimitri remembered alright, but not completely. Those memories were returning in muddle fragments and only caused more confusion to the bemused prince. "You did not misspeak. My name is Byleth."

"But," Dimitri began to protest.

"I do not have a brother. None that I know of, anyway." Byleth explained in the briefest way possible, "I will explain it when we are safe. Let's move this ladder before more reinforcements show."

"But . . . But . . .! Byleth Eisner is dead! Died when he was born!" Dimitri screamed in an outburst of his misunderstanding.

Byleth merely laughed at him, breaking their close proximity and limped to the ladder, "My father lied about a lot of things. Would you put it passed him to fake my death?" That left Dimitri with his mouth hung open. Byleth began to retrieve the ladder and beckoned Dimitri to help.

"You can't just drop that on me and not give me a few moments to process it!" Dimitri shouted.

"If you alert any more trouble to our location," Byleth narrowed his eyes, "I will explain once we are safe. There is a lot – and I mean a lot – of lies left to undo with all of this."

"Why would Jeralt fake your death?" Dimitri asked. The amusement on Byleth's end wore off. They needed to focus on retreating and regrouping.

"He had his reasons and that will take some time to explain. Please, give me a hand with this. Or will I have to do it by myself?"

Dimitri swallowed his confusion for now. He helped Byleth position the ladder and hoist it through the window. It took a few efforts to lower it without hurting either of them and repositioning it so it was manageable; long ladder, long hall, but narrow path left them scrapping the walls more than a handful of times, but they finally fed the unruly long piece of wood through the small hole they had to work with.

On the center balcony, the one hanging above the bridge, the ladder was indeed too long, but that was a better problem than it being too short. They positioned the ladder against the wall and four of the steps rose above the balcony railing.

"Look," Byleth pointed to a wyvern approaching them. Either help saw the smoke rising or an enemy took to the skies – either way, Dimitri readied the bow in case of trouble. They quickly eased once they saw Seteth on the back of the winged beast.

"Report!" He yelled, "What in blazes is going on, here!?"

"Enemies in the cathedral," Dimitri answered, "They blocked the gates. We had to improvise our escape."

"Several dead," Byleth pointed at the lone marksman confirming Dimitri's statement, "We do not know if there are any more intruders."

"Argh!" Seteth exclaimed as if he were pained, "What happened to that window!? That was not in that state of disrepair this morning!"

"The enemy . . . did that." Byleth lied.

"Hmph. Understood. Lower yourselves, I will watch for your safety." As Seteth gave that instruction, Byleth saw many familiar silhouettes near the bridge. The scouts must have made notice of the fire and alerted the class – his trusted students – and the advisor.

Much, much better. The strength of Dimitri made this ordeal doable. The strength of all his trusted members would completely overturn those horrible events. Dimitri climbed partway down first, then descended slowly to keep an eye on Byleth's steadiness.

Do not fall, Dimitri repeated over and over in his head.

There was a minor tremor from the ground. Perhaps they both just imagined it? It was light. Then a few more. They were not nearly close enough the ground for an earthquake to erupt.

"That can't be?" Byleth questioned. An earthquake fit nowhere in the undone timeline, though the approaching thunderstorm did. If it was not a natural disaster that awaited them, then the source of that quake could only mean a large beast was approaching. That was also an event that specifically did not happen – though if they were becoming desperate . . .

Then they were in trouble again and also in the worst possible position. Were they outsmarted? How? The shockwaves that came next rattled the ladder, once again upsetting Byleth's vertigo. The sky spun around him and the earth lurched below.

Do not fall. Byleth ordered himself, though he could also apply it to the ladder as well. Had it toppled sideways, all that Dimitri and Byleth did were for not, lost at the bottom of both a torrent and sharp rocks that could shred them.

Seteth noticed this alarming occurrence and lowered his wyvern to them, "I can carry only one of you."

"Take him," Dimitri said. He could slide down this just as fast. Before Byleth could object, he felt the giant claws very gently pick him up and carry him toward safety. Dimitri propelled himself to the bottom and ran to his friends and comrades. Partway, the demonic beast ripped open the gates and busted through the opening, puncturing a hole through the hall and balcony Byleth and Dimitri just escaped from.

The Blue Lions went to join Dimitri, fearlessly fighting off the beast as they learned to do so after many encounters. They were not phased by the sight anymore, Byleth observed. When Seteth lowered Byleth, he stopped the professor, "Wait. You are injured, correct? Leave this to us."

"But my students," He began to say.

"I will aid them. They are strong and you know it. They are more than just your students now, professor. Alois, guide the professor to the audience chamber. Gilbert is already checking everywhere else for signs of foul play. You need not worry, professor."

"A-Alright." Byleth sighed, feeling the decline once more. He could not rest, though, knowing his closest friends were fighting one of those creatures.

"My orders are to take you to safety," Alois reiterated once Seteth soared into action.

"I know. I know." Byleth watched the coordinated assault. There was nothing to fear. They could handle themselves . . . they were no strangers to this, after all.

Byleth refused to move. His body would not let him.

"Professor." Alois said, though he understood Byleth's hesitancy. "The Goddess will watch over them."

'_No.' _Byleth thought. '_The Goddess is with me. I am now her. She cannot watch after them if I avert my eyes now.'_

They broke through the demonic beast's protective shell. It whined, loud enough for the entire monastery to have heard it. Alois patted Byleth on the back and said, "You see? They know what they're doing, son! Let's just get you somewhere safe."

"Sir!" A soldier ran up to them, "I have a report for you!"

"What is it?" Alois said. Something about this soldier seemed familiar. Too familiar.

Alois was taken by a surprise throwing axe from the bushes, hitting him squarely in the center of his heavy armor. Luckily, it only dazed Alois but the soldier went to impale the knight before the shock wore off. Byleth responded in kind, using his fire magic to tranquilize them both for Alois to recover and end the soldier.

Magic. It was draining Byleth. He felt like his body would drop again. He could not register what Alois did next, nor could he hear what was happening with the beast behind them. Byleth's body finally caved and he felt himself falling forward.


	8. Begotten Shadows

Summary:

Shadows begin to haunt Byleth as he recovers from magic drain, a condition brought on by the divine pulse's misuse.

Notes:

This is where the paranormal and strange parts start to come in.

Begotten Shadows

Date and Time : ?

Byleth's vision blurred. He fixated on an ajar doorway, the first image in his sight line, and watched many people rush past. He awoke in an unfamiliar bed along the far wall. The doorway faced him by the opposite corner and a closed closet was to his right. That was all he could make out in the dim lit room.

He lifted to move. An unseen force kept him in place. The shadows spilled in from outside, haphazardly shifting along the walls. It was dark already, but the shadows extinguished the light further. Something invisible sat on him, caging him in. He yelled for help, but words did not leave his lips. In fact, his lips would not part. The air he would have used swelled in his throat.

Each command that Byleth gave to his body was met with absolute refusal. The shadows multiplied in the room. They started to appear more three-dimensional with each passing second. They crept closer. Byleth mentally froze.

The room itself spun. Byleth recalled his dizzy spells from earlier, though this was different. His entire body felt like it swirled in a whirlwind, while the shadows swiveled in the opposite direction. The individual distorted bodies became one, blocking visual on the doorway. Byleth closed his eyes. Even blind, his head swam in circles, caught in a current. Byleth felt the unified mass surround him, their breath on his skin.

He fought, fruitlessly. He stayed in place, helplessly trapped in the tides. They laughed at him in childish giggles. He heard the closet door slide open. Hushed voices from what sounded like a woman and a man echoed nearby, clearer than the voices from before. He almost recognized them but could not place them.

Hands touched Byleth. He wanted to scream and fight but could do neither. They spoke above him in unfamiliar speech patterns. What did they want? Then they removed themselves and a weight lifted.

Byleth opened his eyes. The room was black, but he made out two figures in the obscured sea. They were facing each other and conversing. Unlike before, they had color and shape to them, but Byleth failed to make sense of the overflow of information.

He blinked a few times. One of the people moved to the fully open doorway. The other left his narrow view, still somewhere in the room. The one still in sight hesitated and looked back.

Byleth clearly saw his face then – it belonged to Dimitri – and felt immeasurable reassurance. He wanted to reach out and call his name, but his body was still completely immobile. For a moment, their eyes locked and Byleth implored Dimitri for aid.

Dimitri's blank face never changed, and he left the room completely without word or acknowledgement. With that action, Byleth's hope sunk into his stomach. The muttering and warped voices repeated. Byleth fell unconscious to this disquieting noise. "So much for a second chance." One of the shrill voices hissed during the last few seconds of Byleth's awareness.

#

Thunder brought Byleth back to his senses. The strange room he was in was silent, though did that make it eerier or better? He saw Dimitri peering in from the hall, though he made no attempt to interact. He was gone just as quickly again.

The rain rebounded off the rooftops, gracing the windowsills for extra pattering. It became a soothing presence – a natural phenomenon, as well as a way to keep track of time. No wails of demonic beasts pierced the night storm; even if the booming rain drowned out the noise, the shriek of a beast was a shrill thing, and would certainly cut through.

No. Dimitri ignoring Byleth's silent appeals alarmed the professor the most. The only other people he saw in the passing hour were shadowy and unrecognizable. Alien. Bizarre. Midnight fast approached, if Byleth's sense of time was accurate.

A pair of glowing red eyes stared him down after the hall quieted. No other form beyond a pair of bloodshot red eyes harbored in the doorway. If Byleth could only shout out, he would. If he could raise his own body up and fight back, he would. As it approached, Byleth felt his senses growing dim. A headache soon imprinted him, starting at the temple and working its way to the back of his head, down to his neck.

His back and chest began to throb. As if the arrow that penetrated his heart manifested once more, a mind-numbing pain illuminated from the source of his downfall. A hand reached toward Byleth, dark and disfigured. After that, Byleth fainted.

#

A feeling of weightlessness brought Byleth back awake. A steady beat rang against his left arm and chest, but it could not belong to him. His eyes instantly focused on the underside of Dimitri's jaw and his muscular neck. What a comforting way to wake up this time . . . Dimitri carried him somewhere, though Byleth found his ability to speak was still quite lost.

They were outside soon enough, and the sky was a sickly green hue. Strangely, Dimitri did not notice.

As Byleth rested, unmoving, he remembered why he fainted in the first place. Magic drain. That Divine Pulse must have caused a more serious side effect than he could have imagined, leading to this state of paralysis. Able to think without the garbled distortions, Byleth wondered how to awaken himself fully.

He must have had a terrible nightmare – several, in fact. The pain was gone, although his chest compressed in a way that gave him unease. _Magic Drain_. That's all it could be. Normally, a mage used the world around him or her to draw power in – magic tomes in the past helped channel this. Byleth, however, must have accidently been drawing _from his own source_. Meaning, draining of his own life.

Ghost pains were not unusual after the Divine Pulse rewound the clock – students who could not possibly remember the past still felt as though their body had been wounded, somehow, but had no proof of it. Byleth encouraged them to think of it as muscle strain or fatigue – how could he conceivably explain that the wound they felt was actually a death blow or a crippling shot from an undone timeline?

Dimitri took Byleth to a place he recognized. A place that was his own home – his quarters. Dimitri, closing the door behind them, laid the professor to rest in his own bed. Byleth looked at him – Dimitri's face was neutral and tired, with blond hair falling over his eyepatch.

'_Please stay.'_ Byleth thought. Dimitri turned his back to the professor, but much to his relief, Dimitri spun the professor's desk chair around and moved it against the desk, keeping it sturdy as he sat with legs folded and eye closed for a nap.

#

Byleth dreamed of a box. Something small and blue and important. That hand from before, reaching out to him, held that box in its other hand, he realized. A nightmare within a nightmare, a memory resurfacing – but it couldn't mean anything.

Byleth woke up and immediately sat up. Finally, he regained mobility. He saw Dimitri sitting in the chair, peering at him with the same impartial expression. "Dimitri?" The other man said nothing, just quietly observed.

Byleth stood up and went for the door. Something was off about Dimitri . . . so he would have to find an explanation elsewhere. Outside his room, the monastery sat in its original state, but the usual business stilted for uncertain reasons. Byleth saw and heard no one – the sky was the same sickly green color as before.

Byleth turned back into his room and looked at Dimitri again. The blonde prince had not moved from his spot, but then Byleth could see why from where he now stood. His own body had not left the bed – Byleth was moving around in a spiritual form.

"He can't help you. I am sorry professor." A voice – a _very familiar voice at that _– said from behind him. Byleth moved away from the door and turned around to see Dimitri. Young with both eyes intact and dolled hair that he way he used to fashion it. He wore those old academy clothes – the black tunic and the blue house caplet, with a lance held loosely in his dominant right hand.

"Why are you so . . . young?" Byleth asked.

"Why is he so old?" The younger prince retorted with some enthusiasm, but Byleth felt uneased by this appearance. Dimitri could not exist in this state – so obviously, Byleth had yet to awaken. "What do you remember, professor?"

"Remember?" Byleth decided to keep his silence. Talking to a dream character would be a paramount waste of time and energy.

"Just, anything. What you remember last, any strange dreams that you've had . . . something along those lines."

". . . You cannot be real. None of this can." Byleth walked over to his body and closed his eyes. Still alive, but positively drained. Byleth was not surprised in the least at his own state, though he did wonder how this sequence of dreams came to be.

The younger Dimitri mindlessly twirled the lance in-between his fingers, "Real means nothing in this state. I am here . . . because your mind decided to conjure me. That's all. It would be quite beneficial for you to talk to me. Maybe I can help you arrive at a conclusion."

"So, I am conversing with myself with just a different face." Byleth still found the whole thing bordering ridiculous.

"Maybe, maybe not. A bit odd, but for some reason this face grabbed your fancy. I suppose you miss the young prince's appearance?"

". . . I . . ." Byleth glanced over at the older Dimitri, solemn in hushed despair. "I want . . . I wish there was a way to go back and make it so . . ."

"I never get that bad?" The younger Dimitri shrugged, "A very sweet sentiment, but that was not your fault. There is no reason for you to feel any regret. You were still the one who saved me, right? Sometimes one has to fall all the way down to start the climb back up."

"Hmm. Perhaps." Byleth inhaled, deciding to give this a chance. "I remember a shadow figure with a blue box. That was the last thing I dreamt before meeting you."

"A blue box, huh? That is strange."

"A blue box is strange, but not the figure holding it?" A raspier voice called from the seat where Dimitri had been sitting. Somewhere in their discussion, the older Dimitri must have been summoned as well.

"Well, why would a strange shadow be holding a blue box?" The younger Dimitri defended his statement. Byleth became even more bemused by his circumstances.

"Why am I dreaming about two Dimitris arguing?" He asked. The older man moved between Byleth and the younger Dimitri, keeping his arms folded.

"Professor," The younger Dimitri smiled pleasantly, "You need not to worry. I find this to be just another part of your mind working through the details."

"Byleth." The older Dimitri called, but said nothing else. He seemed more hesitant to make claims in comparison to his younger counterpart. Byleth concentrated on Dimitri's backside, realizing Dimitri had not been wearing his fuzzy blue cape. He looked over at his own body – sure enough, the cape was on Byleth's body for extra warmth.

"Is there something wrong . . . Dimitri?" Byleth asked, though the question had two different marks, apparently.

The older one looked over his shoulder and smiled thoughtfully, "No. I don't think so. Perhaps you should try resting for a bit longer?"

"I agree with that. You're still on the mend, after all." The younger said.

"Well . . . if you're both saying that . . ." Byleth examined the chair and realized that Dimitri's body still rested on it. His cheek drooped into his fist and his eye was clearly shut in rest. Byleth internalized different interpretations of this information and watched as the two Dimitris took in one another.

The younger of the two broke the awkward tension and said, "I will go scout for evidence of a 'box', then. Professor, should you remember anything else, let me know . . . until our next meeting." He left after a bow.

"And what will you do . . .?" Byleth asked the one left remaining. His arms were still folded as he turned his body to face Byleth.

"This place is . . . similar to somewhere we've been, recently. I think I see what's going on, though it's difficult to fathom. Byleth, do you trust what he said? Do you think he truly is a manifestation of your imagination?"

"I do not know."

"Healthy skepticism isn't a bad thing. And what about me?" Dimitri lowered his arms.

"I've been trying to call out to you all day. Why did you only just now respond?"

Dimitri slowly shook his head and answered, "I only just now heard you. I am sorry for that. It seems like you're safe here, regardless, so try and get some rest. I wonder if I can find her here."

"Her?" Byleth asked quizzically.

"I never heard her name, though I am certain I know just who she was. If I can find her, I might be able to figure out what 'this' all is." He made a gesture at 'this', "If you see a woman in a white dress with blue hair, ask her about that figure with the box, Byleth. She might just know something."

"A woman with blue hair. Okay. Dimitri, what does this place remind you of?"

"That strange world between life and death. Only this one feels more . . . sinister. I am not sure what I'm sensing, to be completely honest."

"Then you remember everything?"

"Yes. The time reversal and everything happening leading up to it. I remember it all . . ."

"I see." Byleth blinked, holding his eyes shut for a few seconds, then glared at Dimitri. "Don't you ever commit suicide again. I will not forgive you a second time."

"Yes, Byleth."

"Promise me, Dimitri."

Dimitri leaned forward, running a hand down Byleth's back, and kissed him on the forehead. "I promise, my dear professor, that I will never commit suicide again." Byleth fell into Dimitri, murmuring something that sounded like approval, and Dimitri rested his chin on Byleth's head. He drew Byleth in for a close embrace and could feel the mutual love flowing from Byleth.

After Byleth broke the hug, he asked, "You will stay close, won't you?"

"Yes. I don't exactly trust what's happening right now."

"And the . . . younger you?"

"I have no idea what to make of him." Dimitri answered honestly, "I imagine he looks like I once did, though I can't remember it clearly myself. In short, if he is a manifestation of one of our memories, I'd imagine that he'd be yours. Just keep your guard up when conversing with him and if anything feels off, let me know."

Byleth nodded. He did feel worn and decided to rest. Since his body was still alive, all he had to do was touch it and –

Dimitri watched the professor dematerialize from this world, snapping back into the body he belonged to. He would do the same in a few moments, but he wanted to inspect the outside. He pushed the door, realizing that the was not actually opening but he could still move through it.

The sky was green and heavy with dark clouds. There seemed to be an energy deposit streaming from around the gazebo maze and garden – as he looked at it, he felt the menacing presence more intensely. Under the protection of the shadows the structure provided, the green light did not touch Dimitri. Once he stepped forward, the light burned into exposed skin. Dimitri yelped and jumped back into the shadows.

"I discovered that earlier," the younger Dimitri said, "The light burns. If you want to explore, you have to stick to the shadows."

"Then it would be impossible to make it in the garden." Dimitri answered his younger self.

"The garden, huh? Why there?"

". . . A feeling, that's all." The older Dimitri went back in Byleth's quarters and mended his injury, reticent to give the younger any more details than was absolutely necessary. This place did mean to harm them, after all. That begged a question regarding his 'younger self'.

"At night you could." The younger form followed in, "Assuming that light responds to constructs as night and day, dark and light."

"Then I suppose I should return at night." Dimitri answered.

"Yes, I suppose you should. Tonight, then." The younger left again. Dimitri did not trust the younger form, but he kept an open mind about him. Until he could find evidence to the contrary, that was, and then he would spike the little bastard.

For now, he touched his body and returned to slumber.

#

Dimitri woke up, his wrist hurting from the hand that supported his neck and head. The dream he had slipped from his memory, leaving him dazed and confused. He felt like his face burned, though had no idea why. The cold front moved in, but Dimitri was pretty well impervious to cold and frostbite. The sun was nowhere near hot enough to cause a sunburn. Maybe it was the way he slept?

He stood up and inspected Byleth. He had been asleep since that battle a week ago. The other close members of the war room began to worry – the liberation of the holy kingdom would begin at the end of this month, but their lead tactician and key source of troop morale remained in this state.

While Manuela kept him in the infirmary, Dimitri stopped by to check on Byleth multiple times, but the professor lingered in his comatose condition.

Byleth stirred, though, shifting under his blanket and the cape. He gripped the latter to his body, and wearily attempted to sit up after opening his eyes. Dimitri supported the professor's back and lifted him up. "Hey. How are you feeling?" Dimitri smiled, glad to finally see Byleth.

"I –" he said, then winced, "am so hungry."

"Hah. I bet you are." Dimitri slid his hand under Byleth's legs and lifted him up, "Let's get you something to eat, then."

"Hmmhmm." He cuddled into Dimitri, wrapped up in Dimitri's cape. Byleth was so light – lighter than he was even a week ago – and thinned out more than he should. It was time to regain some healthy weight and muscle.

Byleth glanced at the bed and the chair. He was satisfied with what he saw, but Dimitri could not help but feel that action was justified. A feeling nagged at him, but he failed to understand why. For now, he walked outside and let the sun touch them both.

Byleth pulled the cape over his eyes but was fine otherwise. Dimitri felt no different, but something was there at the back of his head. He would work it out after Byleth was physically taken care of, Dimitri decided.

In the garden to one of the entrances of the cafeteria, though, he felt it. Foreboding, longing, and thirsting. It came from the center. Whatever dark magic it was posed a threat to the monastery and to Byleth – that's what Dimitri concluded.

They were still far from safe.


	9. Normality

Summary:

Byleth and Dimitri discuss a few things on their mind. Byleth wants to do some more recreational activities, but Dimitri has a nagging sense that something is still wrong.

Notes:

I know that they officially named Byleth's mother, but I gave her this name before the DLC dropped.

Normality

05/10

Dimitri explained a lot of what happened in the week that Byleth was unconscious. Not very many other people were in the cafeteria – the professor woke at an odd hour. That dream from before passed from Byleth's memory as he listened to the prince talk. "After the demonic beast destroyed part of the tower, Seteth scoped out the landscape. He found a bucket attached to a tripwire. Turns out if we went in that narrow space, a trap would have sprung with cold water, drenching us."

"Hypothermia." Byleth said.

"Yes. in your condition, I would be surprised if it didn't take effect immediately. I am glad we followed your strategy, profes . . ." Dimitri stopped himself. "Is it alright to call you Byleth?"

"Call me whichever you like."

"Which do you prefer?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard 'Byleth' spoken in a long time, but I am a bit attached to 'professor'. I imagine if you did decide to call me Byleth, you'll slip and fall into an old pattern. It's fine, either one."

"Byleth. It's – that name suits you, I think. Anyway, the enemies possessed weaponry close to that of the same ilk who murdered your father and the ones likely behind Duscar."

Byleth recalled that dagger driving into his flesh – a wound that only existed in the memory of time. He became curious to what Dimitri evoked while Byleth slept. "Dimitri. Do you remember the undone past?"

". . . If you're talking about those vague moments where I have knowledge of things I shouldn't, then I would have to say it only comes to me in my dreams or in a strange déjà vu experience. It's a bit nice not having those nightmares where my dead loved ones are haunting me. But I do see you dying now that it's happened; and it scares me even more than my normal ones. Although . . ." Dimitri wondered if he should bring up that dream he had, sitting in the professor's room. There was a vague remembrance of talking with Byleth and someone else. Someone that should not belong.

"Are you sleeping better, though?" Byleth asked. His concern for Dimitri's wellbeing was as touching as always.

"No. I've been too restless. You waking up will help it, though. I'm sure of it."

"I wonder how likely we can substitute one of our beds for a bigger one." Byleth said. He changed the topic, though, to something more serious. "Are there any traces of intruders left? I don't really plan on having a repeat of last night."

"Byleth. That happened a week ago."

"Oh. Same difference to me." Byleth finished his breakfast and felt much, much better. His strength returned to him, little by little; at this rate, though, he should really consider avoiding magic of any kind. That seemed to have an adverse effect on his health.

Dimitri said. "At least that sleep was warranted – I didn't panic too much this time."

"This time?" Byleth asked.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Dimitri responded, "And . . . I remember what I promised you. I won't do it again, no matter what circumstances fall me."

"Thank you. That wasn't an easy night for any of us. I think we need to plan a system where no one is alone. Some of us here will be upset with this, but I don't want it to happen again. To anyone."

"You need to be more forthcoming with your injuries, professor. The way you acted before it happened, I would have assumed you were fit for battle. It seems that I was mistaken." Dimitri stated in a return reprimand of his own.

"Yes. That's fair. Dimitri, about that possible infiltration to the soldier's ranks: I think we need to propose a plan. Not here, though. We can pitch it tomorrow at the next council. I have an idea. . ."

"Oh?" Dimitri folded his arms. "This should be good. Shall we discuss it somewhere more private?"

"Sure. Private is good. I have just the place in mind."

"War Room?"

"No. You're thinking too small." Byleth leaned forward and whispered, "We should clear out the bathhouse. Just you and me."

"Professor!" Dimitri felt a twinge, and he focused more on the embarrassment from that proposal. Those minty eyes told him that Byleth meant what he said, but Dimitri could not abide it. "There are better places to discuss strategy!"

"I need a bath. My hair is sticking to my face. And you said you weren't leaving my side, right? Oh. We should probably discuss that misunderstanding, while we're at it."

"You have to be joking."

"I am not. Let's reserve a time and we can, uh, discuss our situation."

Dimitri gave him a sideways glance, "Our situation? Meaning what?"

"After this war is over. While the war is continuing. What happened last nigh – week. And how often do you think we'll have the chance to meet up, just the two of us?"

"That – That's hardly a topic worth discussing when there's so much to do! We can't possible afford to – to fornicate!"

"A daily fornication isn't a bad thing."

"Daily? That's ambition."

"Multiple times a day?"

"I think you need to slow down, Byleth. We only just started this back up . . ." Dimitri played the practical role suddenly. When one falls off the wagon, the other must pick him up.

"Who was it that aggressively kissed who in the middle of a battle? I distinctly remember someone doing something like that." Byleth chuckled, "Honestly, I've been thinking about it since I woke up."

Dimitri let out a soft groan and apologized, "My emotions were . . . untamed at that point. That was not an appropriate thing to do."

"Probably not. Doesn't change the fact that I've been thinking about it all morning."

"Wait a minute! You're condoning that!?" Dimitri yelled louder than he intended to.

"I probably shouldn't . . . doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it –"

"Okay, yes, you're thinking in less sensible terms today. That's fine, you're recovering. But that's not something that should happen again." Dimitri could only imagine how his friends would react to that.

"I shouldn't ever think in sensible terms again?" Now Byleth was having fun with his poor Dimitri.

"That's not what I meant. . ."

Byleth nodded, "I know. We'll be back to business as usual soon enough. Let me have my moment of normality."

"Business as usual is our normal, Byleth."

"Not as I see it. Before this war is my version of what should be normal. I want to go back to that, though it will never be the same, I think we can get pretty close."

Dimitri never heard the professor talk about his goals and desires before. Before, Byleth had no true answer, by his admission, but now it seemed that maybe he changed his mind. "What are your dreams, professor?"

"My dreams?" He repeated.

"Your ideal future?"

"Hmm. I want this war to end but I won't run from it. I want everyone to be carefree like before. I suppose if there's one thing I truly want, it is to stay in Fodlan as a professor. I like my role here. Of course, I don't think I'll ever have a class like this one again."

"Then . . . Then you are no longer planning on leaving it all behind?" Dimitri asked, feeling hopeful.

"I was never planning on leaving in the first place, Dimitri. My father's distrust of Rhea made that plan operational."

"Ah. So, I see. I overreacted. I'm sorry, Byleth, I – wait. His distrust of Lady Rhea?" Dimitri repeated in shock.

"Oh. . . I didn't mean to say that much." Byleth blamed his exhaustion and closed his eyes. He wondered if that was enough to set Dimitri in another mood, but the prince stayed agreeable. Probably practicing staying calm in the face of distasteful discussions.

"Captain Jeralt had misgivings about the Lady Rhea?" Dimitri asked again, more curious than enraged.

"I still don't fully understand the whole situation myself, but it has to do with my mother's death. Or, I guess you could say, it has to do with Lady Rhea being the only one present at my . . . birth."

"You're saying that Lady Rhea delivered you? Oh. Wait. I think Seteth said you were related to the Archbishop. That's probably why."

"Am I now? Seteth really didn't tell me outright one way or another. He said I was kin to him and Flayn. By what you said, I then can surmise that Seteth and Flayn, Lady Rhea, and I must all share a common bloodline? I still don't know how we all connect, though."

"Interesting. I knew something about you that you didn't?"

"And this is why it is so confusing to bring up. My head hurts." Byleth said honestly. This conversation was giving him a migraine.

"You weren't trying to avoid answering the question before. I realize that now . . . The answer is just a complicated web."

"A complicated web _of lies_. And I have to untangle it if I really want to know just who I am. Then again, Byleth, son of Jeralt and Araleth Eisner might just be enough for me."

"Is it?"

"For the most part, yes. I think it might be time to purge my death certificate, though. That lie, at least, has ran its course."

Dimitri laughed. "Ah. What an odd statement. That takes the lead of sentences I could not have ever fathom hearing."

"Well, now that we've breached a sensitive topic like that out in the open, I propose we reserve the bathhouse to continue our conversation and avoid eavesdroppers."

"You are not letting up on that." Dimitri frowned.

"No. I want to feel clean and maybe continue where we left off."

"In our conversation, of course." Dimitri said, now acting averse toward their mutual attraction. It wasn't that he was suddenly bashful over it – the more he thought on it, the more he wanted to cave into those desires. The problem, however, was the danger he continued to sense.

"Among other things." Byleth stood up. His legs wobbled under him but kept him upright. Dimitri eyed the lean figure before him.

"Byleth, it's been a while since you and I engaged like that . . ."

"Yes. I know. We should do something about that." As far as statements went, that one made Dimitri's body practically ready for Byleth to have his way. He also had reservations.

"You're not well yet. I don't want to hurt you." Dimitri admitted to that deep-seated fear of accidently bending Byleth wrong and snapping his bones, or otherwise maiming him in ways he hadn't intrusively envisioned. He would not live with himself if he, even by simple accident, left Byleth bedridden.

"I'm not going to break." Byleth said. He had said it before.

"Professor, I'm stronger than I was five years ago. And you're – you're . . ."

"A delicate little flower that's wilting? Dimitri, I am fine."

A wilting flower? An image of white lilies came to Dimitri's mind, though he wasn't sure why. Another memory from the timeline they erased? What would it have to do with flowers, though? "Byleth . . ."

"Oh, alright. You win. I still want a bath, though." Byleth frowned. Sulked, even. And if it was a tactic for Dimitri to lower his guard, take pity, and concede to Byleth, it worked. Dimitri knew he had to make his feelings secondary to the potential dangers they face, but by the Goddess that face Byleth made was doing it for him.

"Let's just go get your bath in." Dimitri sighed.

Notes:

As I might have mentioned before, in my part 1 I fully intend Dimitri and Byleth's first sexual encounter to be around the Heron Ball, Goddess Tower, and Dimitri's B-day. I just write my stories in parallel so it's hard to get to that chapter. I might just have to write it as a separate entry, since I'm taking my time with Part 1. (I'm almost in month 5 in part 1). So the stories actually are in the same month just five years apart.

I also have to do some planning and direction. I changed my mind on the pacing of this story to fit a more active one so I have to mentally correct a few things.


	10. Bathhouse(NSFW)

Summary:

Byleth convinces Dimitri for some R&R

Notes:

Byleth and Dimitri have sex in the bathhouse. Anal sex and other positions detailed below.

Bathhouse (NSFW)

Dimitri and Byleth found themselves alone in the bathhouse, although the nearby sauna was still mostly occupied. The room held a large pool of water, that fit multiple people at once and a flower bed to keep the floral theme of the monastery; although, the plants had long withered and no one had time to care for a new batch. Dedue recently rejoined them and had not noticed their desolate shape.

Dimitri was uncomfortable with the situation, mildly due to intimidation on being in this situation again (it had been years since he last touched the prof – Byleth this way). Dimitri's primary concerns still were on the looming threat beneath the surface, though. Being caught with their pants legitimately off was not in a position he wanted to be in.

But Byleth disrobed entirely without the same hesitation. Growing up without social cues really emboldened him at times – having no shame about his body included. Years of physical and practical combat broadened his upper body, enlarging his arms and chest. His legs, however, were not as utilized, so they were less muscular and more lean. Dimitri always had to take a look at the professor without all his armor. His frame was not as imposing without it – even less so now that the professor stood naked.

He took the bandage from his wound off and inspected it. "Ah. It's healed up nicely. That's good."

"Sleep did you some good, profess – Uh, Byleth."

Byleth went into the bath, leaning against the wall facing Dimitri, and said, "Aren't you going to join?" Noting that Dimitri was still fully clothed.

"I will just stand watch."

"That means that we booked this timeslot for no reason."

"It's for your safety. Wash up and we will return to your room. Tomorrow we will begin our War Council as usual and you will be resuming your role."

"Oh. Will I? Hmm." Byleth washed his hair and felt the grime disappear. When he stopped scrubbing, Byleth asked, "Who's been leading the charge?"

"Gilbert and Seteth. I've been helping Manuela with you."

"What happened with the intruders?" Byleth asked.

"We found no other. Which reminds me, you said you had a thought on how to move forward?"

"Yes. We still have a war to contend with, so this might be difficult to pull off. I think it's best that we give our orders as normal to our integral group, but limit what we tell anyone outside of it. This will be business as usual. There is a guard posted outside and can very possibly hear us at any given time."

"Yes, I suppose that is true."

"However. The next day, we will give out false orders on guard rotation. That way if there is a spy in our guard, they will be reporting either false or conflicting reports to their head. We can then reverse a trap for them once they reveal themselves."

"How do we do that?"

". . . We will have to establish a way to identify a false plan and our real plan to our group. Then we post soldiers to the false areas and see who shows up. We need to be discreet in gathering intelligence. Something Shamir is very capable of, and others like her."

Dimitri followed along, "You want to give out false orders and see who takes the bait. It might work, if we had more time. We will be marching toward my home very soon."

"And everyone knows about that. Just not when, right?" Byleth said.

". . . Right. That is true. 'When' had been postponed while you were in critical condition." Dimitri said.

"I feel fine now. Tomorrow's meeting will have to be handled carefully." Byleth tilted his head all the way back and enjoyed the warmth. Dimitri swore he did it on purpose, though. His body was exposed and enticing. Meanwhile, Byleth's goals were transparent.

Dimitri walked to stand behind Byleth and crouched down. He took off one of his gauntlets, set it aside to a dry spot, and traced his fingers along Byleth's neck. Dimitri's thumb felt the gentle blood pumping through veins on Byleth's neck and both smiled. Byleth's eyes pleaded for him to join – but it was not appropriate.

"This is a _shared _bathhouse, Byleth." He protested.

"The water will wash it all away. What do you think happens to the linens we used to wipe off afterwards? They went into the shared laundry facility." Byleth retorted.

One of the downsides to a shared pool of resources was to ensure everything stayed hygienic. Dimitri grabbed his gauntlet and stood up. He went over to the hangers and took off his clothes, internally battling whether or not this was a good idea. When his clothes did come completely off, his confidence did not match Byleth's.

He set a few towels down for when they were done and went into the bath on the opposite side of Byleth, sitting down feverishly as the warm water hit him. He would not last very long in this inferno. Byleth stared at Dimitri, who had put in the entire pool's distance between them and tilted his head sideways. Dimitri washed his hair and ignored Byleth, listening for anyone who would be spying on them.

Dimitri retreated from the pool after his hair was drenched, sitting on the outside pavement instead with his feet on the watery seat. He was overheating already – he could not perform, even if Byleth wanted him to. Not without getting sick or passing out. Byleth moved over to him and settled next to Dimitri's legs, reaching around Dimitri's calves and began to feel up his legs. Somewhere in the middle of this, he transitioned from being next to Dimitri's legs, to being in the center of them. Byleth's hands went for both of Dimitri's inner thighs and the prince closed his eye.

"It's too hot in here," Dimitri complained, though he relished the touch.

Byleth stood up, but hunched over to kiss Dimitri, then asked, "Do you want to head back, then?" Water dripped from Byleth onto Dimitri and he wanted to see how far Byleth would take this flirting. Now that he was out of the pool and there was a slight breeze from a draft somewhere, his body temperature had gone down to acceptable levels.

"No. We can stay here a bit longer." Dimitri said. Byleth pulled those towels to either side of Dimitri and climbed into the prince's lap, resting his knees on linen instead of the scratchy floor as he straddled. He was careful not to harm Dimitri. He situated it so the inner shafts of both penises rubbed against the other. Byleth was already fully erect (Dimitri was pretty sure he started that way since before they entered the bathhouse), while Dimitri remained halfcocked at best.

Byleth continued to drive this force, hooking himself to Dimitri's neck and lightly bighting him. He carefully moved his hips to keep them in direct contact and felt Dimitri become more aroused as Byleth stimulated them both. Dimitri felt up the small of Byleth's back, tracing it and feeling the professor's strangely soft partially hovering ass. Their closeness overrode that cooldown Dimitri experienced earlier, but if he was honest, he did not care.

Knowing that Dimitri struggled with heat, Byleth worked fast. He lowered his hand to grip the base of Dimitri's penis and carefully dropped down onto the tip, while still hovering. Byleth's core strength had to be in excellent shape to maintain this position and he carefully inserted Dimitri's dick.

"Are – are you really going to do this?" Dimitri asked.

"I've been thinking about it since I woke up. Why? Are you telling me 'no'?"

The part inside of Byleth already felt good. Dimitri just was not expecting it to go this far – Byleth never had any reservations about any of this, as he recalled; the professor never struggled with sexual identity – the moment he learned he had feelings and attractions to Dimitri, Byleth acted on it after discovering it was mutual. Dimitri was always jealous that Byleth never dealt with peer pressure and social conditioning – he came free of all of that burden but traded it for a less than memorable childhood.

"Keep going . . ." Dimitri said, then wondered how Byleth was not in pain. Then again, he had been carefully lowering himself and stopping until he felt able to continue. Dimitri did not do much work here, and it still shot wonders throughout his body. Byleth had enough in him to start riding – how he was a natural at this, Dimitri could not guess. Imagination? Talks with Manuela? . . . yeah, that was probably it. She was a terrible influence on him.

When Byleth's thrust brought him forward, his chest brushed near Dimitri's face. He placed a supporting hand on Byleth's back that kept his torso forward, so Dimitri could lick one nipple and trace his thumb over the other. Byleth made a pleased noise in response, slowing down his hip motions to enjoy this sensation. After a moment of regaining his bearings, Byleth grabbed a fistful of Dimitri's hair and rode Dimitri at a moderate speed to keep them connected.

All of the pain and suffering Dimitri experienced rushed him – he looked for an outlet for it all and realized the soft riding was not going to get him off. It was a nice start, but he craved more. It did not take him very long to figure out how to enact his play.

"Are your legs hurting?"

"Not enough for me to stop."

"I think you should. Reposition." Byleth did not question the order and carefully disengaged. Dimitri helped him out by placing his hands under Byleth's armpits, then lowered them to the bend of his legs. Dimitri lifted him up, taking Byleth's knees off the ground, and repositioned him so both his legs were together. He sat Byleth down so his body and legs were facing one direction, then Dimitri grabbed a towel, raised Byleth and himself up, and stepped out of the pool. Byleth wrapped his arms around Dimitri's neck.

"Where are we going?"

"Nowhere far."

He stopped at the flower bed and let Byleth stand on his own. Dimitri laid the towel down on the dirt and gave another order, "Lay down. Legs up."

"Yes, sir." Byleth obeyed. Dimitri took on a position akin to Byleth moments ago, his knees digging in the soft dirt, and pulled Byleth toward him. He held Byleth steady by his legs and was careful, at first, still not wanting to hurt him. But his mind did go somewhere untamed and Byleth just looked so pleasing. He gave a few meaningful thrusts to gauge Byleth's pain level and went from there.

The connection they had before was severed, but Byleth did not mind. He folded one arm behind his head and clutched his own hair while gripping a handful of dirt in the other. He was not in pain – far from it. This is what he wanted from the beginning.

Dimitri hustled huge gasps from Byleth, who was in bliss. Dimitri underwent a very similar sensation, taking in the moans and visuals that was Byleth during sex. Dimitri loved this man. He needed this man. For every moment that they lost during those five years, Dimitri's sanity suffered. He felt the beats of those moments echoed back to him and wash away. Pleasure. That was all he felt now. The perfection of his partner in this life, getting dirt on his arms and in his hair. And Byleth did not care.

The thrust and suction on Dimitri's penis, combined with his lack of sexual contact in five years, allowed for him to cum quickly. Byleth felt that warm burn and opened his eyes as he let go of his gripping. He was also close, but not yet at that climax point. Dimitri lowered Byleth's legs, then dropped to his elbows. He put his mouth over the tip of Byleth's shaft, and continuously licked just that part.

Byleth groaned in gratitude, and Dimitri slid further down, sucking and rubbing his tongue as he went. Dimitri was not too sure about this at first – but penis had a distinct but satisfying texture. A clean one didn't taste any different than anything else and it was actually fun to play with.

Dimitri came back up to rest his jaws and sampled the tip again. He brushed his lips over it and teased Byleth, who was at his boiling point. Dimitri felt it and pulled back to let Byleth finish. Dimitri got sprayed a little bit, but it was to be expected. He did not care and after Byleth let out a sigh, Dimitri hovered over Byleth. He went in for a kiss, breaking it into shorter sessions while Byleth regained his breath.

Dimitri slid his hands under Byleth's back and stretched to his head, lifting him to an angle to better reach Byleth's neck. Byleth turned his head to lightly kiss Dimitri's temple, then Dimitri returned the affections by locking their lips together. They embraced like that for several moments, Dimitri's heart pounding against Byleth's still one. Learning that Byleth had a pulse, but no heartbeat, still made Dimitri squeamish, but he tried to ignore it as best as possible.

Once they mutually decided to break off their indulgent pastime, Byleth laughed, "We need another bath."

"Yes. Yes we do."

Dimitri picked up Byleth again and took them back to the baths. Why did he fight this, again? It had been months – _years_ –since he felt this good. He sat himself with Byleth still huddled in his lap. Dimitri began washing Byleth off, not yet done touching him. His hair had dirt in it, despite the towel (if they did this again, maybe they would not use it since it didn't really help). Dimitri dipped Byleth part way into the waters to rinse out his hair, brushing his bangs to the side and planted an affectionate kiss on Byleth's brow.

Byleth ran his hands through his hair and gently rubbed his face with water, then sat up. The dirt came off of them while they cleaned.

Dimitri panted as his body couldn't take it anymore. "I need to get out of this heat."

"Okay." Byleth said. They exited the bath and toweled off. Dimitri fetched the really soiled one along with him. They deposited the towels, hoping no one would question it too much and dressed themselves. Their playtime went undisturbed, but it was time to focus on what threats still remain to them.

TMI: I don't write sex scenes often. Usually, I'm too focused on getting pounded into oblivion that positions are like 'meh' to me? So I don't always know what works.


	11. The Light

The Light

After some much needed stress relief, Byleth passed back out. They both detested being clothed, but they had to leave the bath clothed, otherwise it would be indecent. Still, it was uncomfortably clingy after such a freeing experience. Once Byleth was sound asleep, Dimitri requested that Dedue watch over the professor's room, to which he obliged.

Dimitri ignored his discomfort, then walked toward the source of his distress and noticed that it peaked just below the gazebo. He mentally charted out its location and assumed that it was the holy tomb that waited below. If that were the case, Dimitri needed to scout it out and eliminate those lurkers, but he did not know the underground routes as well as Seteth. That meant petitioning for permission would be the next step on his agenda.

Or it would have been next if Dimitri had not seen a familiar face.

"You are getting adept at this." She said, sitting in the gazebo. Long blue hair. Soft eyes and a consoling smile. "I told you I wanted what was best for Bylleth. I am glad I entrusted him to you. Do you remember?"

"Who are you?" Dimitri asked.

"A friend. Now. You sense it, don't you? Those creatures still stir and want their freedom. Listen to me closely. They are after that which will bring them back to life."

"How do you know so much about them?"

A silence hung over them and her smile vanished. "I am one of them."

"What?" Dimitri took a step back.

". . .Death does not bind them. Bind us. Our consciousnesses are stronger than that. The problem is, we do not have command over our own bodies anymore. Incomplete beings, thrown to the side, called failures. Once the Archbishop was captured, those consciousnesses began to awaken. Once sealed away from doing harm, their souls yearn to return to this world."

"I do not understand this." Dimitri said.

"No. As you are now, you lack the insight. The Archbishop has many secrets, and those below are but one of them."

"How are you free to roam, but they aren't?" Dimitri asked.

"Who said they aren't?" She warned. "I can be seen by a few. I choose to. They do not. How can you say for certain that they aren't already here?"

Spirits. Ghosts. An invisible threat. "That's what you are, I take it? A ghost?"

"Yes, you could say that."

"Then why aren't you after the same goal?" Dimitri asked.

"Byleth's life is more important to me than mine. I wish to return to slumber and move on to the next world. There I will meet an old face and wait for Byleth. But he is due for a life of his own. The others need to move on as well."

"Are you Araleth?" Dimitri asked.

"I am. Byleth is my child. And I will not stand idle while those others plan his downfall. They need something within Byleth to resurrect. But it will not end well in their favor. They have yet to realize this."

"Humor me. Why is that?" Dimitri asked.

"Their bodies could not survive life the first time. Resurrecting that would only amount to misery. Even if it does succeed in issuing a breath of life, only one may fully resurrect and the others will constantly fight over their chance. They will all perish and fade once more."

"How many are there?" Dimitri asked.

"Eleven. Including me, twelve."

"Okay. Tell me what I need to do, then." Dimitri listened to her. She pushed Dimitri and Byleth together in the first place, but that was an entirely undone timeline now. Dimitri had to confirm something before she continued, "How do you remember your interactions with me?"

"All twelve of us remember the undone. Do not forget that as I tell you. We are borne of the goddess's divine magic darkened by ill intent. We feel the flow of time, forward and in reverse, as naturally as you breathe. The memory of Byleth dying is still fresh on their minds, and they will stop at nothing to reenact it.

"You remember I mentioned a core? When it was struck, it threw those plotting consciousnesses into a frenzy and they battled to retrieve it. Now that time has reversed, the core remembers the damage. Those below remember it, as well. They wish to take it, by any means necessary."

"How could those ghosts have anything to do with that ambush? Since they have no bodies of their own, we were still attacked by the imperial spies, correct?"

"They know who your enemies are. They whispered strategies into their ears. They just did not realize doing so would backfire and harm the core. I believe I heard Byleth's thoughts echoing back a curiosity to how the enemy's movements were far too predictive of what you two would do next? That is because they knew and retained that information, based on the spirits' decision to share it with your natural enemies."

"Ah. Great. An internal threat and intruders from the outside. Okay. What do I do to keep Byleth safe?"

"Return to Byleth. Watch over him as he recovers. There is a sealing magic that I am sure he can perform, as it is intrinsically linked to the goddess's power. Flayn more so than Seteth would also be inclined to this magic."

"Oh. Why is that?"

"Such capabilities boon more fully in some more than others. Flayn happened to hear my voice and see me – and I saw her strong magical aura as well."

"Then we cannot deal with them until Byleth fully recovers . . . There is no other way to keep them from harming us?" Dimitri was less than thrilled with that answer. He wanted to eliminate them a week ago, but forgetting important details and prioritizing staying close to Byleth prevented him from researching it further.

"I am afraid there is a limit as to what you can do. But, you still play a key role in this. I have to retreat where they cannot find me. Weakened by their bloodlust, I must not show my face regularly. You are stronger than I am."

"Eleven to one. I am sure you are doing the best that you can."

"I was never much of a fighter. You and the others close to him, are so loyal to him. I think that I can leave this task to you."

"You can."

Araleth nodded. "Thank you. I will start showing Flayn how to perform the sealing magic. Byleth should come up with it naturally. Return to him. He mends faster in your presence." And like that, Araleth vanished from view. It took a few moments of reminding himself that yes, Araleth was the ghost of his lover's mother, and that yes, he was not hallucinating as Flayn can see her as well. There was something to be gleaned from her approval, though, and Dimitri would wear that with pride.

Dimitri returned to Byleth's room and Dedue left them after the prince expressed his gratitude. Byleth was already awake, however, looking out the window. He craned his body to see who his visitor was, and smiled.

"I am surprised you are awake, Byleth." Dimitri said.

"I had a hard time staying asleep. It was a bit odd to wake up to an empty room, though."

"Sorry. I had some errands to run – no rest for our kind, right? How are you feeling?"

"Good. The light poured into my room and I was curious about its touch. It seems like it's much different now."

"How so?" Dimitri asked.

"Well, we aren't supposed to travel in the light, but it pours so gently now."

"I beg your pardon? Where did you hear something like that?"

Byleth fully turned around and said, ". . . From you? 'The light burns, so stick to the shadows'. That's what you said."

"I most certainly never said anything of that sort! Are you sure you are remembering correctly? Ah. Sorry. You just woke up from a nap, so you perhaps dreamt it?"

But a sudden remembrance of that light burning his face came back to the forefront. Were they on the spirits' turf when they dreamt? If that were the case, Dimitri had to fall asleep when Byleth did – and that was a task easier said than done, as he slept more than Dimitri under normal circumstances.

Byleth nodded, "Maybe. It was such a real dream, then. That light did sting so vividly, that I had to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Dimitri looked at Byleth with equal parts intensity and fear – these eleven would need to be sealed before they could do more harm to him. How could Byleth heal if he could not sleep in peace? Perhaps that was the point . . . they were going to run him ragged and guide the next set of intruders into ending Byleth when he was powerless to fight back.

That was never going to happen.

Dimitri closed the empty space between him and Byleth, pulling him into an embrace. He ran his hands up and down Byleth's back, remember how smooth and warm the bare skin was a short while ago. Byleth's hands were folded between their abdomens, and he made no movements beyond nestling his face in Dimitri's chest. They had already indulged carnal pleasures for one day – and Dimitri sensed very little sexual desire from Byleth as they cuddled, so he moved for something less taxing.

Dimitri took off his overbearing armor and shirt, leaving himself bare from his waist up, then relieved Byleth of the same. He ushered them to the bed and resumed a tender embrace while they faced one another, and Dimitri caressed Byleth's back. Dimitri felt Byleth's lips gently pecking his collarbone in reciprocation, but it did not last for very long. Dimitri's touch lulled Byleth back into slumber, and Dimitri shut his eye in hopes for the same.

He wanted to see this 'otherworld' once again to determine its threat level to Byleth.


	12. Undetermined Intent

Undetermined Intent

Armed with knowledge, Dimitri awakened in the shifted world of the eleven beings of the underground. His memories of the undone timeline came back to him in perfect sequence – apparently this world was great for remembering things. A world of the subconscious mind; the target of these other beings. While Dimitri focused on keeping Byleth safe, he realized that Araleth left many things unanswered.

Just how did these beings come into existence? Something about the divine powers gone wrong, but what did that mean? Well, he would have to focus on that later. Byleth's voice caught Dimitri's attention, but Byleth stood in the middle of his room and talked to that younger version of Dimitri again.

Something about that person made Dimitri hesitate. What if he was one of those threatening creatures? Dimitri certainly couldn't rule the possibility out, nor could he afford to trust the eerie face. Dimitri stood up from the bed then wrapped his arms around Byleth's waist, very openly claiming Byleth in front of this unwanted specter.

"Oh. So. You are awake, are you?" The younger clone asked.

"In a manner of speaking." Dimitri pulled Byleth in closer. He didn't seem to mind it, since Byleth lovingly pet Dimitri's arms.

"So, if you met your past self, you would argue with him?" Byleth laughed, growing accustomed to the pair of seemingly harmless Dimitris. Of course, Byleth gave no indication of not trusting the younger form. Dimitri had no idea how any of this worked, but he would not let Byleth stumbled through it alone. And especially not if their new enemy insulted Dimitri by stealing his identity.

Byleth made it very clear to Dimitri on his own feelings. To be betrayed by another Dimitri again would be insulting, especially if it came from this misaligned figment. Dimitri forced a smile, then asked, "So. You are still an existing figure. Care to explain how that is, again?"

"Of course." The innocent doll of a boy smiled back. "I am a figure of the professor's creation. A memory of the person who he cherished. The one he spent with most during those academy days. I am simply a reflection of you. That is all."

"Uh-huh." Dimitri was wholly unconvinced.

"You may dislike me all you wish. The professor called out your name into the darkness, and I came as a way to bring comfort. Hating me is like hating the memory of you. There is only waste in thinking in those terms."

"I will assume all you said is true, for the moment. What happens to you if you are injured?" Dimitri asked.

"Well. To put it simply, I am sure it would hurt your professor. As I am more him than I am you." He answered. And what a crafty answer it was. Byleth turned his body and looked curiously at Dimitri.

"Why are you asking those questions?"

"Just doing what I can to learn about this place, love." Dimitri kissed Byleth's forehead, since the opportunity presented itself. It felt oddly real, considering they were in a dream state or . . . similar. Maybe souls had solidity to them? Questioning it would only make his head hurt.

"This place?" Byleth returned his body to a normal position, "The light coming from outside is green. It hurts when it is green."

"Yes. Exactly. It's dangerous." Dimitri nodded, then addressed the specter. "And do you know why that is?"

"There are beings outside. They are the creators of this light." The younger Dimitri explained.

Divine light darkened by ill intent. That was the phrasing Araleth used, he finally remembered. Dimitri asked, "And how much do you know of these creatures?"

"Not much. Just that they exist. Sticking to the shadows is the best chance we have at survival. Would you agree to that, Dimitri?" The younger form smiled still. It was a pleasantly fake mockery of friendliness.

"How safe are we if we stay in this area?" Dimitri ignored that smile and focused on Byleth's wellbeing.

"Entirely." The younger Dimitri leaned back into the door. "They will not seek you out here."

Dimitri frowned deeply, feeling that statement out to be a lie. They were actively searching for Byleth, from what Araleth described, and would not be stopped by a wooden door. That meant he needed to come up with a plan of defense before that happened. Dimitri relaxed his hold on Byleth and gently pushed his elbows to turn him around. Those soothing green eyes looked up at Dimitri. "How are you doing?"

"I am well. You seem to be doing worse than me at this moment." Byleth answered. "What is wrong?"

"This place, for starters. Those beings on the outside pose a threat to you. I would ask that you proceed cautiously." Dimitri plead. Byleth nodded in his usual manner, but something about him seemed different. There was not a hint of prudence in his face, and he behaved dismissive of the menace.

"Shall we take a look outside?" The younger Dimitri voiced a suggestion that completely conflicted Dimitri's imploration. "We learn nothing by hiding."

"Yes." Byleth said.

"No. What did I just say?" Dimitri argued, "Byleth. We need to assess our situation before haphazardly exposing ourselves to it."

"You worry to much. We should be fine." Byleth answered.

"That light is enough to cause damage. We have not even come face to face with those creatures and they already have a way to harm us."

"Oh. I suppose that is true." Byleth agreed, returning to his senses. "This enemy. Do we know anything about them?"

The younger Dimitri maintained his gleeful state, but Dimitri swore he saw an eye twitch. He could not prove it just yet, but Dimitri would not show this figure mercy once he found enough cause to end him. The only reason Dimitri had not done it yet was because of the possible connection to Byleth.

"I will scout ahead." The younger Dimitri said, "I know how to navigate the darkness. You would too, wouldn't you? Dimitri?"

Dimitri folded his arms. Yes. They were both equally skeptical of the other. For which reasons remained to be named. Dimitri wondered about that sealing magic. The younger exited to the outer world and Dimitri asked, "What other divine magic do you know? You have that ability to turn back time, but is there anything else you have learned?"

"Well, spells like Aura are divine in nature."

"I suppose that is true. But what about magic tied directly to the Goddess? Without knowing much about our enemy, we might need extra spiritual power. Like, when you cut through the void and returned to us." Dimitri tried to lead Byleth down the proper thought process.

"Hmm. When I learn something 'new' like that, it is usually presented at the time of its necessity. Unfortunately, this power did not come with a training manual."

"Heh. Fair enough. This enemy might be something that only you and your kin may deal with."

"My kin?"

"I remember what was taken from me when you rewound time. Seteth mentioned your blood ties when we thought you were lost to us."

Byleth nodded. "Oh. I see."

"We need to come up with a strategy." Dimitri took a position between Byleth and the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of their bodies still sleeping on the bed. It was strange and he did not focus on it for too long, redirecting his attention to Byleth.

"Who are we dealing with?" Byleth asked, starting to sharpen his mind.

"From what I gathered; they are something created by divine magic. I am not sure why they exist or how, but they share a connection to something that you possess."

"They are divine?" Byleth stared into his hands.

"Perhaps at one point. They are darkened now. I sense them cloistered in the underground Holy Tomb."

". . . A month ago, we followed a note from Rhea. She wrote it in a hurry and addressed it to me before the Empire overwhelmed us five years ago. We retrieved a relic from there and she had golems in place. Is that what you're referring to?"

"I am sorry, Byleth. My memories from even that short of a time ago are mired. I cannot recall those golem creatures, so I cannot comment on that connection. It is possible, I suppose."

"We need to inspect the Holy Tomb to know, then." Byleth said.

"Normally, I would agree with you, but I do not know what we can do to protect ourselves. I would assume magic could be useful here, more so than weaponry. Though, even that is untested."

Byleth eyed the door. Dimitri could tell what he was thinking, but still resisted going out just yet. As far as Dimitri knew, those creatures were waiting for Byleth to falsely assume he could survive this world and attack at his most vulnerable state.

Byleth stated, "I wonder what happened to the other Dimitri?" And there was that being that hooked Byleth's fascination. Dimitri heavily hypothesized that man was one of the creature's pawns and was sent to lull Byleth into that sense of security to easily subdue him. Byleth insisted, "Should we go search for him?"

"He can maneuver the shadows. He should be fine. Besides, you would feel it if he were injured, right?" Dimitri was more than willing to test this specter at his own word.

"He did say that, didn't he?" Byleth folded his arms. "You don't like him much."

"I don't trust anyone I just met."

"Even if that someone has your face?"

"Especially if that someone has my face." Dimitri closed his eye. He knew what his inner demons were – would this false face come close to his depth?

Notes:

I apologize for the shorter chapter. I needed a short one to kind of get Byleth and Dimitri on the same page. I am going to try on focusing on moving the plot forward, as it sort of stagnated.

Unfortunately, the similarities between this idea and Cinder Shadows sort of made me pause on writing this as I intended. It is still following the same theme as I first envisioned, so not much has changed, but there are definitely similarities. I'm not really sure I am going to try and work in the new characters, either. I like them well enough, I just feel like those characters are pieces with different shapes than I am able to work with.

Besides, this entire idea was supposed to follow Dimitri and Byleth after they're able to accurately communicate with one another. Which heavily involves Byleth's past and clearing up misunderstandings between the pair.


	13. Eleven Minds

Chapter 13: Eleven Minds

Notes:

Hello - as I mentioned before, I really struggled with continuing this part. Unfortunately, I just really didn't like where it was headed and think I might have rushed it a few chapters ago, instead of taking my time like I normally do. I think I'm finally getting it back to where I wanted it. This chapter is a bit short, but I need to get this moving along, or it would sit unfinished forever.

Chapter Text

Byleth sat cross-legged on the floor and focused his mind. On Dimitri's request, Byleth attempted to feel the malice of whatever underground obstacles the monastery held. After a few passing moments of deep meditation, Byleth opened his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dimitri. I'm not sensing anything unusual about this place."

"Really?" Dimitri clasped his chin and worried about what that could mean. Dimitri did not have to focus at all to sense it. Their darkened desires overshadowed the light and turned its green rays into a weapon against them. Beyond that, pure malice for Byleth and Dimitri nested at its core.

Dimitri said, "Just meditate and rest, then. We will have to fight them at your full strength."

"What about that other you?" Byleth asked, fully concerned about his status and lack of presence.

"I will worry about his existence, for now. You rest."

Dimitri went outside and closed the door. As long as he stayed in the shadows, that green light could not sear into his body. Aralath probably had similar issues traveling, Dimitri realized, and worried about her.

What could they do in this world if they were unable to move? Byleth and Dimitri, for whatever reason, were pulled in each time their minds lapsed into sleep. The ghouls clearly knew they could keep Byleth exhausted this way, so it would be difficult to fight back. Could Dimitri fight them instead? It was hard to say.

There was no sign of the 'other' Dimitri, and that left the real Dimitri even less approving of its existence. '_It meant to Byleth harm'_ Dimitri's gut screamed. '_It's a ghoul. It has to be._' Dimitri saw flickers of movement and prepared to fight whatever off. It stayed fixed in the gardens and ducked into the cafeteria. He waited for it, or anything else, to come back.

He locked onto something else approaching from under the awnings of the students' rooms. He saw his younger from come slither back in the walkway, and Dimitri felt less than inclined to drop his guard. "Where did you go?"

"Perimeter search. It is decently active out there. We should probably return indoors now." The younger advised.

"Why? Can those creatures not walk inside? I do not see what could be stopping them. Especially not a door."

"I am not sure. They are stronger in the light's path. Maybe that is why this room is still safe?"

"if it is so active out there, why have you stayed undetected?"

"I stick to the shadows. Shall we converse inside?"

"No. I will not let you back in. Not until I know what you are for sure. And if I do not like what I discover, I will end you." Dimitri warned.

"Suit yourself. If I am damaged, then so is he. Just remember that if you decide to kill me."

'_He is lying._' Dimitri thought. '_This is one of them. Do not trust him._'

The older Dimitri held down the door and kept scouting the area. The only thing he offered to the younger form was, "Keep an eye out for trouble."

"I think I shall keep two eyes out, unlike you."

"The professor has never made snide jokes like that before. I cannot see how you share a mental link with him." Dimitri accused, feeling like he had this ghoul figured out.

"It is the sort of joke _you _would make, though, is it not? One full of self-hatred as we are. I am modeled after you, so I speak like you. Or, do you find fault with that as well?"

"And it is Byleth who corrects me. Even if he summoned you, he would summon what he finds to be my more suitable qualities."

The ghoul(?) Dimitri shook his head and said, "In this world, the subconscious reigns supreme. Your worst qualities shine the brightest. Is that not a lovely thought?"

_Dimitri – kill them. Avenge us._

_Don't let them live._

_Don't let our deaths be in vain._

_You are forgetting your mission!_

_So useless._

"Can you hear their voices? The ones that we failed to avenge. You and I are growing weak together."

Dimitri gritted his teeth, but said in defiance, "Subconscious or not, Byleth knows nothing about these voices."

"We are a fool if we believe that. We have been saying all along about our feelings and desires. He knows us well. He knows our pain. He knows our mission. 'Can you not hear them, professor? Their calls to me! Their pleas for vengeance!' Or have we forgotten how much we have told our lover? He called us because he wants us to protect him. We can protect him together."

For some reason, the summoned apparition started to make some sense. Byleth knew them well. Byleth knew their pain and wished to ease it. Byleth was a good man and an exceptional lover.

"We love him. And he loves us. Let's protect him, together."

"Protect him? Together?"

"Yes. Even when we are animals, he loves us. Even when we are at our worst, he reaches out his hand. We must keep him safe."

"I saw something out in the light, before you returned." Dimitri said, pointing toward the cafeteria and the outer gardens.

"We suppose those creatures stir. They are ready to find what they are looking for."

Dimitri felt the faint echoes of his senses yelling at him to stay vigilant. This younger form may try to speak like they were one entity, but there was still a lot that gave Dimitri pause.

"We can protect him out here." Dimitri said.

"We will draw their attention. Let us rejoin our love inside."

"No. They know where we are. We must fend them off."

The younger Dimitri turned toward the outer gardens and sighed. "Very well. We have a stubbornness to us, after all."

More shadows emerged from the inner buildings and they took actual human form. They took shapes into Dimitri's father, Rodrigue, Glenn, and other close friends who died that day. Their faces were twisted in agony and scarred, and their bodies walked toward them hunched forward or twisted sideways.

"Looks like this place has a good read on our weaknesses." The younger Dimitri observed.

The older Dimitri cackled at the sight. "How many nightmares have I had with their mangled bodies appealing to me? And now I'm supposed to strike them down?"

"We could end the nightmare and go inside." The younger suggested.

"No. I am a monster. So, I will show you what a monster does. Keep your hands off the door if you don't want to be a victim as well."

There was a hint of exasperation in the younger Dimitri's face, but the older one grabbed him by the arm and pushed him at least three rooms down. He then faced the oncoming ghouls and focused on a lighting spell.

"You aren't real. You aren't here. You're just a way for them to get under my skin." Dimitri said as the spell acclimated in his hand and symbols formed around his body. "I don't care what you are, though. I don't care what you look like. You're just another nightmare."

A thick bolt of Thoron shot through the magic circle when Dimitri brought his hands in the center of the symbols. It hit many of those familiar faces and nuked his father and Rodrigue from existence. Glenn was wounded but still approaching with the others left alive.

"Do you know what I am thinking now?" He asked the younger apparition, who came back to Dimitri's side.

"No. What." He asked flatly.

"Glenn and my friends. Do you see how young they are? I thought they were so mature when I watched them train. Seeing them now, I can't help but notice how young they actually are. Does that make you sad? Those are eighteen-year children who died, if they were even that old. They barely had a start on life."

"Hmph."

"Interesting. If they survived, what would they be today?" Another ball of white light crackled in Dimitri's hands. "Would they be knights? My knights? Would Ingrid and Glenn be happily together? It's impossible to know anymore."

Those same symbols surrounded him again. "I know what they wouldn't be. Undead ghouls, marching to take the last of my happiness away." He released a second wave of Thoron that demolished the rest of the figures. Once that task was complete, Dimitri slammed his giant hand into the younger's throat and said, "If this was your doing, I'd start counting my blessings and pray to whatever false god it is you worship."

Before the younger one could even react, Dimitri heard Byleth coughing inside his 'safe area'. Dimitri released his hold over the younger form and entered the room in a panic. Byleth was holding his throat and gasping on the ground.

Dimitri knelt beside him, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I – I don't know. It felt like – like someone was choking me." Byleth said in a hoarse voice.

"I told you." The younger said, "Any damage to me . . . goes straight to him."

Dimitri glared at the younger, swearing he smiled at Byleth's pain for just a split second. This world confused Dimitri, but there were two things he absolutely knew for sure: he could not trust this ghoul, and that killing him would be impossible until Dimitri undid whatever magic he had over Byleth.

#

#

#

The ghoul watched the pair disappear. The shock of it woke them up and so they returned to their natural world. The eleven disembodied minds did not factor in such a strong resistance from Dimitri, who had shown weak fortitude to mental pressure in the past.

"We should have been able to manipulate him." One of the eleven said. "He should have fallen to our spell and let us in the room." The murmurs of the remaining ten were indistinguishable while they plotted their next move. As one unit, they concluded their next plan.


End file.
